"Well, Will's coming home," the mother said, with half a sigh.

Winthrop did not answer; he made over to her hand the letter
he held in his own.

"The north hill-field is pretty much all ploughed already," he
remarked.

"You're a good farmer, Governor," said his mother. "But I am
afraid that praise doesn't please you."

"Yes it does, mamma," he answered smiling a little.

"But it don't satisfy you?"

"No more than it does you, mamma. It helps my hope of being a
good something else some day."

"I don't care much what you are, Governor, if it is only
something _good_," she said.

He met her grave, wistful eyes, but this time he did not
smile; and a stranger might have thought he was exceedingly
unimpressible. Both were silent a bit.

"Well, it will be good to see them," Mrs. Landholm said, again
with that half sighing breath; "and now we must make haste and
get all ready to welcome them home."