Behind the farmer's cart came another, which at first I scarcely
noticed, being engrossed by the ruddy face under the red cloak. The
farmer himself nodded good-humouredly, but Mrs. Scarlet-cloak turned
up her nose. "Oh, pride, pride!" I thought, amused, and watched the
two carts, the second of which was with difficulty passing the
farmer's, on the opposite side of the narrow road. At last it
succeeded in getting in advance, to the young woman's evident
annoyance, until the driver, turning, lifted his hat to her with such
a merry, frank, pleasant smile.

Surely, I knew that smile, and the well-set head with its light curly
hair. Also, alas! I knew the cart with relics of departed sheep
dangling out behind. It was our cart of skins, and John Halifax was
driving it.

"John! John!" I called out, but he did not hear, for his horse had
taken fright at the red cloak, and required a steady hand. Very
steady the boy's hand was, so that the farmer clapped his two great
fists, and shouted "Bray-vo!"

But John--my John Halifax--he sat in his cart, and drove. His
appearance was much as when I first saw him--shabbier, perhaps, as if
through repeated drenchings; this had been a wet autumn, Jael had
told me. Poor John!--well might he look gratefully up at the clear
blue sky to-day; ay, and the sky never looked down on a brighter,
cheerier face, the same face which, whatever rags it surmounted,
would, I believe, have ennobled them all.

I leaned out, watching him approach our house; watching him with so
great pleasure that I forgot to wonder whether or no he would notice