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148
The Country of the Pointed Firs
·
Sarah Orne Jewett
123
Some
of
the
guests
who
came
from
a
distance
were
still
sitting
in
the
best
room
when
we
went
in
to
take
leave
of
the
master
and
mistress
of
the
house.
We
all
said
eagerly
what
a
pleasant
day
it
had
been,
and
how
swiftly
the
time
had
passed.
Perhaps
it
is
the
great
national
anniversaries
which
our
country
has
lately
kept,
and
the
soldiers'
meetings
that
take
place
everywhere,
which
have
made
reunions
of
every
sort
the
fashion.
This
one,
at
least,
had
been
very
interesting.
I
fancied
that
old
feuds
had
been
overlooked,
and
the
old
saying
that
blood
is
thicker
than
water
had
again
proved
itself
true,
though
from
the
variety
of
names
one
argued
a
certain
adulteration
of
the
Bowden
traits
and
belongings.
Clannishness
is
an
instinct
of
the
heart,--it
is
more
than
a
birthright,
or
a
custom;
and
lesser
rights
were
forgotten
in
the
claim
to
a
common
inheritance.
We
were
among
the
very
last
to
return
to
our
proper
lives
and
lodgings.
I
came
near
to
feeling
like
a
true
Bowden,
and
parted
from
certain
new
friends
as
if
they
were
old
friends;
we
were
rich
with
the
treasure
of
a
new
remembrance.
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