At home things still sizzled. Father had an important consultation at
the hospital at ten; ringing the stable call for the horses, he found
that Tim, evidently forgetting the hour, had taken them, Evan's also
being of the trio, to the shoer half an hour before. There was a
moment's consternation and Bertel left the digging over of my hardy beds
to speed down to the village on his bicycle, and when the stanhope
finally came up, father was as nearly irritable as I have ever seen him,
while Tim Saunders's eyes looked extra small and pointed. Evidently
Bertel had said things on his own account.

Was an explosion coming at last to end twelve years of out-of-door
peace, also involving my neighbour and domestic standby, Martha Corkle
Saunders?

No; the two elderly men glanced at each other; there was nothing of the
domineering or resentful attitude that so often renders difficult the
relation of master and man--"I must be getting old and forgetful," quoth
father, stepping into the gig.

"Nae, it's mair like I'm growin' deef in the nigh ear," said Tim, and
without further argument they drove away.

I was still pondering upon the real inwardness of the matter, when the
boys came home to luncheon. Two hungry, happy boys are a tonic at any
time, and for a time I buttered bread--though alack, the real necessity
for so doing has long since passed--when, on explaining father's absence
from the meal, Ian said abruptly, "Jinks! grandpa's gone the day before!
he told Tim _Tuesday_ at 'leven, I heard him!"

But, as it chanced, it was a slip of tongue, not memory, and I blessed