"His father is sure to come back some time, Mr. Perkins," urged
Rebecca. "He couldn't leave this beautiful thing forever; and if
Emma Jane and I can persuade Mrs. Cobb to keep him a little
while, would you care?"

No; on reflection Mr. Perkins did not care. He merely wanted a
quiet life and enough time left over from the public service to
attend to his blacksmith's shop; so instead of going home over
the same road by which they came he crossed the bridge into
Edgewood and dropped the children at the long lane which led to
the Cobb house.

Mrs. Cobb, "Aunt Sarah" to the whole village, sat by the window
looking for Uncle Jerry, who would soon be seen driving the noon
stage to the post office over the hill. She always had an eye out
for Rebecca, too, for ever since the child had been a passenger
on Mr. Cobb's stagecoach, making the eventful trip from her home
farm to the brick house in Riverboro in his company, she had been
a constant visitor and the joy of the quiet household. Emma Jane,
too, was a well-known figure in the lane, but the strange baby
was in the nature of a surprise--a surprise somewhat modified by
the fact that Rebecca was a dramatic personage and more liable to
appear in conjunction with curious outriders, comrades, and
retainers than the ordinary Riverboro child. She had run away
from the too stern discipline of the brick house on one occasion,
and had been persuaded to return by Uncle Jerry. She had escorted
a wandering organ grinder to their door and begged a lodging for
him on a rainy night; so on the whole there was nothing amazing
about the coming procession.