conversation. They had come a long distance, for an auction such as this
was a most unusual occurrence in Glendow. The Frenelle homestead had
belonged to the family from the early Loyalist days, descending from
father to son for several generations. Each had contributed something to
the improvement of the land, but it remained for Peter Frenelle, Stephen's
father, to bring it under an excellent state of cultivation. A
clear-headed, hard-working man, he had brought his scientific knowledge,
acquired by careful study, to bear upon the soil, until his broad, rich
acres, free from stone, became the envy and admiration of the parish.

One quiet evening he was strolling around the farm with Parson John, his
firm and faithful counsellor from childhood. Looking across the fields of
waving grain, and down upon the long straight rows of corn, standing
golden in the setting sun, he paused in his walk, and remained for some
time in deep thought. "John," he at length remarked, placing his hand
affectionately upon his companion's shoulder, "the Lord has been very good
to me all of these years. He has blessed me in house and field; He has
given me health and strength, and now in my latter days peace and light at
eventide."

His companion was not surprised at these words, for often before had Mr.
Frenelle talked in this manner. But early the next morning when he was
summoned to his friend's bedside, to receive his final message, and to
hold the hand outstretched to him till it was still and cold, the solemn
utterance of the previous evening came forcibly to his mind.

For several years after her husband's sudden death, Mrs. Frenelle managed
the farm and exhibited remarkable skill in directing the various hired
labourers.