CHAPTER XVIII.


Very welcome was the first view we gained of the old red farm-house upon
our return, and still more welcome was the cheerful and mild countenance
of Grandma Adams who, as soon as Uncle Nathan set out to meet the train,
had taken her place at the front door to watch for our arrival. It was
many years since she had been so long separated from her daughter, and
the six weeks which had passed seemed to her more like six years. For so
long had my aunt toiled on at the old homestead, "year in and year out"
without scarcely bestowing a thought upon the world beyond, that the
kindly spirit of sociality had nearly died out within her; but this
visit with its many scenes of enjoyment, as well as the kind attentions
of her friends, had again called into action that spirit of friendly
intercourse with others without the exercise of which the warmest heart
is prone to become cold and selfish. She seemed hardly like the same one
who left home six weeks ago, as she presided at the supper table with
such a cheerful, even lively, manner on this first evening of our
return. The Widow Green insisted that my aunt should take no part in the
household cares that evening, but advising her to sit idle when there
was work to do, was throwing words away, and she was soon busy clearing
away the supper table, and, as she said, "setting" things to rights
generally. The lamps were soon lighted, and, though it was only the
middle of September, a wood fire blazed in the fire place, and shed a
ruddy glow upon the brown ceiling and whitewashed walls of the large
clean kitchen which when there was no company, answered the purpose of
sitting room as well. Uncle Nathan said he thought they should treat
Aunt Lucinda as company for that one evening and occupy the parlor, to
which kind offer she replied by begging of him "to try and be sensible