Throw them away, indeed!" And she fell to work again; but this time her fingers carried a something in their touch that was almost like the caress a mother might bestow upon an aggrieved child.
David, vaguely disturbed and uncomfortable, watched her with troubled eyes; then, apologetically, he explained:-- "It was only that I thought if you didn't have to clean so many of these things, you could maybe go to walk more--to-day, and other days, you know.

You said--you didn't have time," he reminded her.
But Mrs.Holly only shook her head and sighed:-- "Well, well, never mind, little boy.

I dare say you meant all right.
You couldn't understand, of course." And David, after another moment's wistful eyeing of the caressing fingers, turned about and wandered out onto the side porch.

A minute later, having seated himself on the porch steps, he had taken from his pocket two small pieces of folded paper.

And then, through tear-dimmed eyes, he read once more his father's letter.
"He said I mustn't grieve, for that would grieve him," murmured the boy, after a time, his eyes on the far-away hills.