following evening, after a long day’s work on André’s house, he found Desiré waiting for him with sparkling eyes, flushed face, and such an air of repressed excitement that he wondered what had happened while he had been away.

It was necessary to wait until the children had gone to bed before he could question her. They had decided it was best to leave the younger ones out of discussions of ways and means. “Let them be carefree as long as they can,” Desiré had urged, and Jack had agreed.

“Who do you suppose was here today?” she asked, perching on the arm of his chair as soon as they were alone.

“Never could guess,” he replied, slipping his arm around her.

“Old Simon.”

“Starting his spring trip early, isn’t he?”

“Rather. I made him stay to dinner, and we talked and talked.”

Simon drove one of the big covered wagons which are common in Nova Scotia. They have double doors at the back, and are filled with all kinds of groceries and notions, a regular general store on wheels. Many parts of the country are so thinly settled that it would be impossible for people to obtain certain supplies without the existence of these interesting wagons. Some of them specialize in certain things, like ready-to-wear clothing, but most of them carry a little of everything.

“Did he have anything interesting to tell?”

The proprietors of these odd stores act as relayers of bits of news, as well as merchandise, and often bear messages from one part of the peninsula to the other.

“Why—why—I don’t—really know,” faltered Desiré.

“Don’t know?” repeated her brother, turning to look at her in surprise; for although she dearly loved her home, she was always eager for contacts with the outside world.

“Well, you see, we talked business all the time.”

“Business?” he queried, more and more puzzled.

“Yes. Oh, Jack, let us get a wagon!”

“Desiré, you must be crazy!” he exclaimed, startled out of his usual calm of manner and speech.

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