thoughts of son and mother chimed; not seldom they anticipated each
other's words. The woman saw much of her dead husband reflected in Will
and felt a moral conviction that through the storms of youth, high
temper, and inexperience, he would surely pass to good things, by reason
of the strenuous honesty and singleness of purpose that actuated him;
he, on his side, admired the great calmness and self-possession of his
mother. She was so steadfast, so strong, and wiser than any woman he had
ever seen. With a fierce, volcanic affection Will Blanchard loved her.
She and Phoebe alike shared his whole heart.

"It is a manly way of life he has chosen, and that is all I may say. He
is ambitious and strong, and I should be the last to think he has not
done well to go into the world for a while," said Clement.

"When is he coming back again?" asked Chris.

"He spoke of ten years or so."

"Then 'twill be more or less," declared Mrs. Blanchard, calmly. "Maybe a
month, maybe five years, or fifteen, not ten, if he said ten. He'll shaw
the gude gold he's made of, whether or no. I'm happy in this and not
surprised. 'Twas very like to come arter last night, if things went
crooked."

"'Tis much as faither might have done," said Chris.

"'Tis much what he did do. Thank you for calling, Clem Hicks. Now best
be away, else they'll drive off to Okehampton without 'e."

Clement departed, Chris wept as the full extent of her loss was