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“Marthy always said that Maria Durrant was as kind and capable a woman as she ever set eyes on, an’ poor Marthy was one that knew,” said Mr. Haydon to himself as he went along, and his heart grew very tender. He was not exactly satisfied with himself, but he could not have told why. As he came near, the house looked cheerful and pleasant; the front door was wide open, and the best-room blinds. The little garden was in full bloom, and there was a sound of friendly voices. Conversation was flowing on with a deep and steady current. Somehow the old man felt young again in the midst of his sober satisfaction and renewed prosperity. He lingered near the door, and looked back over his fields as if he were facing life with a sense of great security; but presently his ears caught at something that the two women were saying in the house.

Maria was speaking to Mrs. Chellis, who was a little deaf.

“Yes’m, he does look well,” she said. “I think his health’s a good sight better than it was a year ago. I don’t know’s you ever saw anybody so pitiful as he was for a good while after he lost his wife. He took it harder than some o’ those do that make more talk. Yes, she certain was a lovely woman, and one that knew how to take the lead for him just where a man don’t want to be bothered–about house matters and little things. He’s a dear, good, kind man, Mr. Haydon is. I feel very grateful for all his kindness. I’ve got a lovely home, Mis’ Chellis,” said Maria impulsively; “an’ I try to do everything I can, the way he an’ Mis’ Haydon always had it.”

“I guess you do,” agreed the guest. “I never see him look better since he was a young man. I hope he knows how well off he is!”

They both laughed a little, and Mr. Haydon could not help smiling in sympathy.

“There, I do enjoy spending with him,” said the younger woman wistfully; “but I can’t help wishin’ sometimes that I could have been the one to help him save. I envy Mis’ Haydon all that part of it, and I can’t help it.”

“Why, you must set a sight by him!” exclaimed Mrs. Chellis, with mild surprise. “I didn’t know but what marryin’ for love had all gone out of fashion in Atfield.”

“You can tell ’em it ain’t,” said Maria. At that moment Israel Haydon turned and walked away slowly up the yard. His thin black figure straightened itself gallantly, and he wore the look of a younger man.

Later that evening, when the guests were gone, after a most cheerful and hospitable occasion, and the company tea things were all put away, Maria was sitting in the kitchen for a few minutes to rest, and Mr. Haydon had taken his own old chair near the stove, and sat there tapping his finger-ends together. They had congratulated each other handsomely, because everything had gone off so well; but suddenly they both felt as if there were a third person present; their feeling toward one another seemed to change. Something seemed to prompt them to new confidence and affection, to speak the affectionate thoughts that were in their hearts; it was no rebuking, injured presence, for a sense of great contentment filled their minds. Israel Haydon tapped his fingers less regularly than usual, and Maria found herself unable to meet his eyes.

The silence between them grew more and more embarrassing, and at last Mr. Haydon remembered that he had not locked the barn, and rose at once, crossing the kitchen with quicker steps than usual. Maria looked up at him as he passed.

“Yes, everything went off beautifully,” she repeated. “Mis’ Chellis is real good company. I enjoyed hearing her talk about old times. She set everything by Mis’ Haydon, didn’t she? You had a good wife, Mr. Haydon, certain,” said Maria, wistfully, as he hesitated a moment at the door.

Israel Haydon did not answer a word, but went his way and shut the door behind him. It was a cool evening after the pleasant day; the air felt a little chilly. He did not go beyond the doorsteps, for something seemed to draw him back, so he lifted the clinking latch and stepped bravely into the kitchen again, and stood there a moment in the bright light.

Maria Haydon turned toward him as she stood at the cupboard with a little lamp in her hand. “Why Mr. Haydon! what’s the matter?” She looked startled at first, but her face began to shine. “Now don’t you go and be foolish, Isr’el!” she said.

“Maria,” said he, “I want to say to you that I feel to be very thankful. I’ve got a good wife now.”