After dinner, which nurse brought from the table on a tray, Mrs. Curtis enjoyed an hour of refreshing sleep.  When she awoke she found the blinds carefully closed to exclude the light; but she could hear the sound of many voices outside, and at last a tiny head, covered with auburn curls, peeped into the room.

“Mamma, see what Winnie dot,” exclaimed a happy voice as she saw mamma was awake.  “See pooty bird!”

“It’s a goslin,” said mamma, taking the little yellow, downy ball from her daughter’s hand, “a darling little goslin; but it is crying ’peep, peep,’ because it wants to be back with its mother.  Where are papa and Bertie?”

“Papa done off with man.  Dere Bertie,” as his voice shouted “Winnie,” at the door.

It was almost four o’clock before Mr. Curtis made his appearance, and his wife, who had been chatting with Mrs. Taylor, the farmer’s wife, had begun to wonder where he could be.

“You’re nice and cool here,” he said, laying his hat on the table and wiping the drops of perspiration from his forehead.

“You look very tired, Lawrence,” she said, anxiously.

He only laughed.

“Isn’t it time to start?” the lady asked.

“The horses will be round directly; but, Cecilia, I want to ask you a question.  Were you in earnest when you said you should like to live here in this quiet village?”

She sighed.  “Yes, Lawrence, I really meant that I should enjoy a home away from the bustle and confusion of a city; and that lovely lake is exactly what I have always connected with my visions of a country home.  But why do you look so eager?”

“Because, my dear, I have ascertained that I can purchase that spot on reasonable terms.  In fact, everything is settled on condition that when you have taken a nearer view you like it.”

Mrs. Curtis clasped her hands as she exclaimed, ­

“Oh, Lawrence! what a kind husband you are!”

“I have ascertained,” he went on, smiling, “that the village is so healthy no physician can be supported.  There is one church and good schools; though there is no hotel and not one dram-shop.  I think we shall like it; and if you say you will try to be contented, I shall conclude the bargain at once and turn farmer.”

“Why, Lawrence, what do you know about such business?”

“You forget, my dear, that I was born and brought up in the country.”

The next morning, when they left the farm-house, Mr. Curtis had agreed to buy sixty acres of land adjoining the lake, with a right to the use of the water for boating or fishing, or whatever else he pleased.  He had also engaged board for the rest of the summer with the farmer’s family, and promised to return in a fortnight.  In the meantime, he intended to look up the titles to his new land, and if it was all right, as he expected, to proceed at once to build a new house.

Mr. Curtis, ever since his marriage, had done business as a merchant in a large city.  He owned ships which he sent out to foreign lands, and in this way he had become very rich.  After his wife’s sickness, the physician who attended her, told him that if she could live in some quiet, healthy, country village, her life would probably be lengthened for years.

Mr. Curtis loved his wife so well that he would gladly give all his ships, his money lying at interest in the banks, and his warehouses filled with goods, to keep her well; and this was what made him so ready to buy a place in the country.

He was sure, too, that it would be much better for Bertie and Winifred to grow up surrounded by the beauties of nature; and he was also sure that if he and his wife had hearts to do good, they could find abundant opportunities for it in this beautiful village.  On every account, then, he was pleased with his purchase, and drove away from Oxford with the happiest anticipations of a long and useful life passed within its limits.