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.