Chester laughed, and took him off, kissing his tanned cheek, before he set him upon the turf.

"I want to ride!" cried Lizzie.

"Do you?" laughed her brother. He threw her up so suddenly that she found herself in a position rather more becoming to boys than girls. The children shouted while she hastily shifted sidewise on the saddle, and Chester put her foot in the stirrup-strap.

"I want to ride, too!" cried Georgie, clinging to his brother's legs.

"Well, we'll see if the pony will carry double. Hold him tight by the bridle, Sam."

Sam liked no better fun. He held the horse while Chester put up George behind Lizzie. The animal curled back his ears, but did not seem to mind it much.

George was so delighted with his position, that Willie, who had abdicated his seat voluntarily, now began to cry with envy.

"Do you want to ride now?" said Chester. "Hold fast to Georgie, then."

He put him up, and the child laughed gleefully before his tears were dry.

James looked as if he would like to ride, too, but was too manly to speak of it.

"Hold tight, Willie!" said he.

"I will!" cried the urchin, hugging Georgie with all his might.

"O! you hurt!" roared Georgie. "There's a pop-gun in my jacket pocket, and you squeeze it right into my side."

Chester reached up, and removed the pop-gun, much to Georgie's relief.

"Now lead on to the barn, Sam," said he,--"slowly. Don't let the young ones get hurt, when you take them off."

"Let me drive," cried Lizzie.

Sam looked up for Chester's approval, and abandoned the reins to the young lady. The horse moved on towards the barn, good-naturedly, as if he was used to such nonsense.

Chester could not help laughing to see Willie hug Georgie with all his might; his brown cheeks pressed close against his brother's jacket, and his little bare feet sticking out almost straight on each side, his legs being very short, and the animal's back very broad.

While the young man stood there laughing, some one clasped him from behind, and kissed his cheek.

"Sarah! my dearest sister!" cried Chester, folding her in his arms; "I am glad to see you! How beautiful you grow!"

"You can well afford to say that," replied Sarah, gazing with undisguised admiration at his handsome face, and curling black whiskers.

"O! I should hardly have known you!"

Chester laughed, well pleased with the praise implied, and, clasping her waist, was dancing with her towards the house, when the screams of little Willie attracted their attention.

Looking round, they saw the boy Sam, who had a rare genius for mischief, tickling the bottom of Willie's foot with a twig. The latter could not help himself; kicking was impracticable, considering his position, and to disengage a hand from George's waist would have endangered his neck by a fall. The little fellow was completely at the mercy of Sam, who walked by the horse, plying the twig, and laughing with infinite good-nature.

"Sam! you rascal!" cried Chester; "let that boy alone."

"I'm only keeping the flies off his foot," replied Sam, candidly.

"Well, if you don't take care, I'll keep the flies off your back with a larger stick than that! Why do you want to spoil the little shaver's ride in that way?"

By this time, Willie, feeling deeply injured, began to bellow, and Lizzie was obliged to drive twice around the big wood-pile, in the center of the yard, to pacify him.

Mrs. Royden met Chester in the doorway, and kissed him affectionately.

She proposed half a dozen leading questions with regard to his conduct, his health and his designs, almost in a breath; all of which he answered equivocally, or postponed altogether.

"Where is Hepsy?" he asked, throwing himself on a chair, and wiping the sweat from his fine forehead with a perfumed handkerchief.

"She'll come soon enough," replied his mother, in a disagreeable tone.

"Have _you_ got to using _perfumes_, Chester?"

The young man flirted his handkerchief, smiling disdainfully, and said he "supposed he had."

"For my part, I think they are very nice," added the admiring Sarah.

"Do you, Sis? Well, you shall have as much of them as you want, when my trunks come."

"Where are your trunks?" asked Mrs. Royden.

"At the tavern. I was in a hurry to come home; so I hired a saddle and galloped over the road. Let one of the boys harness up, and go for the luggage."

"Why, your father has gone to the village himself. Didn't you meet him?"

"No; he must have gone by the west road. I wonder if he will stop at the tavern? If he does, the landlord will tell him my traps are there."

"I presume he will go to the tavern, child. We are expecting his cousin Rensford, the clergyman, to-day, and your father went as much to bring him over as anything."

"Pshaw! the old minister?" cried Chester. "How long is he going to stay?"

"I hope not a great while," said Sarah. "Anything but a minister--out of the pulpit."

"He'll just spoil my visit," rejoined her brother. "He has been here, hasn't he? I think I remember seeing him, when I was about so high,"

measuring off the door-post.

"He spent the night here, several years ago; but we don't know much about him, only by hearsay. He's a very good man, we are told," said Mrs. Royden, with a sigh; "but how we are going to have him in the family, I don't know."

Chester changed the topic of conversation by once inquiring for Hepsy.

The girl did not make her appearance; and he expressed a desire to "see a basin of water and a hair-brush."

"You shall have the parlor bedroom," said Sarah.

"But if Mr. Rensford comes--" suggested her mother.

"O, he can go up-stairs."

"I won't hear to that!" cried Chester. "Give the old man the luxuries. I want to see the inside of my old room again."

"But Hepsy and the children have that room now."