She understood me, and gently shook her head.

It would be a shame to make any explanations which might put an end to this bit of camp-life, which evidently was so eagerly enjoyed by our old friend.

But we insisted that they should come up to the house and see us, and they agreed to dine with us the next evening.

On Tuesday, they must return to the city.
"Now, this is what I call real hospitality," said the ex-boarder, warmly grasping my hand.

I could not help agreeing with him.
As we walked home, I happened to look back and saw old John going over the fields toward the camp, carrying a little tin-pail and a water bucket.
The next day, toward evening, a storm set in, and at the hour fixed for our dinner, the rain was pouring down in such torrents that we did not expect our guests.