Maybe she'll be sent for same as Aunt Jane was. _Then_ what's he going
to do, I should like to know?




CHAPTER VIII

WHICH IS THE REAL LOVE STORY


BOSTON. _Four days later_.

Well, here I am again in Boston. Mother and the rest met me at the
station, and everybody seemed glad to see me, just as they did before.
And I was glad to see them. But I didn't feel anywhere near so
excited, and sort of crazy, as I did last year. I tried to, but I
couldn't. I don't know why. Maybe it was because I'd been Marie all
summer, anyway, so I wasn't so crazy to be Marie now, not needing any
rest from being Mary. Maybe it was 'cause I sort of hated to leave
Father.

And I did hate to leave him, especially when I found he hated to have
me leave him. And he did. He told me so at the junction. You see, our
train was late, and we had to wait for it; and there was where he told
me.

He had come all the way down there with me, just as he had before. But
he hadn't acted the same at all. He didn't fidget this time, nor walk
over to look at maps and time-tables, nor flip out his watch every