no longer: he was bringing his wife with him to live at The Mound.
The moment Nanny saw her, she recognised her as the lady who had lent
her the ruby-ring. That ring had been given her by Mr. Raymond.

The weather was very hot, and the woods very shadowy. There were not
a great many wild flowers, for it was getting well towards autumn,
and the most of the wild flowers rise early to be before the leaves,
because if they did not, they would never get a glimpse of the sun
for them. So they have their fun over, and are ready to go to bed
again by the time the trees are dressed. But there was plenty of
the loveliest grass and daisies about the house, and Diamond's chief
pleasure seemed to be to lie amongst them, and breathe the pure air.
But all the time, he was dreaming of the country at the back of the
north wind, and trying to recall the songs the river used to sing.
For this was more like being at the back of the north wind than
anything he had known since he left it. Sometimes he would have
his little brother, sometimes his little sister, and sometimes
both of them in the grass with him, and then he felt just like
a cat with her first kittens, he said, only he couldn't purr--
all he could do was to sing.

These were very different times from those when he used to drive
the cab, but you must not suppose that Diamond was idle.
He did not do so much for his mother now, because Nanny occupied
his former place; but he helped his father still, both in the stable
and the harness-room, and generally went with him on the box that he
might learn to drive a pair, and be ready to open the carriage-door.
Mr. Raymond advised his father to give him plenty of liberty.

"A boy like that," he said, "ought not to be pushed."