"
"Dear me!" said the Altrurian. "Is it so simple as that? Then we can
hardly wonder at their owners leaving these worn-out farms; though I
suppose it must be with the pang of exile, sometimes."
"Oh, I fancy there isn't much sentiment involved," I answered, lightly.
"Whoa!" said Mrs. Makely, speaking to the horses before she spoke to the
driver, as some women will. He pulled them up, and looked round at her.
"Isn't that Reuben Camp, _now_, over there by that house?" she asked, as
if we had been talking of him; that is another way some women have.
"Yes, ma'am," said the driver.
"Oh, well, then!" and "Reuben!" she called to the young man, who was
prowling about the door-yard of a sad-colored old farm-house, and peering
into a window here and there. "Come here a moment--won't you, please?"
He lifted his head and looked round, and, when he had located the appeal
made to him, he came down the walk to the gate and leaned over it, waiting
for further instructions. I saw that it was the young man whom we had
noticed with the girl Mrs. Makely called Lizzie on the hotel piazza the
night before.
"Do you know whether I should find Lizzie at home this morning?"
"Yes, she's there with mother," said the young fellow, with neither liking
nor disliking in his tone.
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