Again and again she missed from some accustomed doorway the familiar face of the former owner, and saw that a stranger had taken the old business.
But then, again, others were there in their old places; friendly faces beamed upon her as she looked out of the window.

It was known upon the bridge itself that she was to come back today; and though the appearance of this fine coach caused a little thrill of surprise, there was a fine buzz of welcome as Reuben put out his head and stopped the postillion at the familiar door; for so many fears had been entertained of Reuben's death, that there were those who could not believe they should see him again in the flesh until he stood before them.
"What means all this?
Why stop ye here ?" asked the Master Builder, with a little agitation in his voice.

"You have a home of your own, you told me, Reuben, to which to take your wife.

Why stop you at your father's house?
Let the postillion drive to your own abode." "This is our own abode, dear father," said Gertrude softly, alighting from the coach and taking him by the hand to lead him in.
Her other hand was held by her husband; and Lady Scrope was forgotten for the moment by all, as the three passed the familiar threshold amid a chorus of good wishes from friends and neighbours, to which Reuben responded by a variety of signs, Gertrude being too much moved to notice them.
"Dear father," she said, as they stood within the lower room, which was being now fitted as of old for a shop, "forgive us if we have kept our happy secret till now.

We wanted to have the home ready ere we brought you to it.