But Stephen began to feel a little tired as they neared Fern's
Hollow, though they were still two miles from the cinder-hill cabin.
'Home, home!' he said, rather mournfully, pointing to the new house.
'Tim, I remember I used to feel in myself as if that was to be my own
home for ever. I didn't think that God only meant it to be mine for a
little while, even if I kept it till I died. And when I thought I was
going to die, it seemed as if it didn't signify what kind of a place
we'd lived in, or what troubles had happened to us. Yesterday, Tim, Miss
Anne showed me a verse about us being strangers and pilgrims upon the
earth.'
'Perhaps we are pilgrims,' replied Tim, 'but we aren't much strangers on
these hills.'
'It means,' said Stephen, 'that we are no more at home here than a
stranger is when he is passing through Botfield. I'm willing now never
to go back to Fern's Hollow, if God pleases. Not that little Nan is
gone; but because I'm sure God will do what is best with me, and we're
to have no continuing city here. I think I shouldn't feel a bit angry if
I saw other people living there.'
'Hillo! what's that?' cried Tim.
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