start by the morning train. Lucy followed almost immediately. About
half-an-hour afterwards Aunt Hepsy went upstairs to put a forgotten
article into Tom's trunk, and was arrested by sounds in Lucy's room.
The door was a little ajar, and Aunt Hepsy peered in. Lucy was
undressed and sitting at the window, her arms on the dressing-table,
and her whole frame shaking with sobs. Once or twice Aunt Hepsy heard
the word "Mamma." The passion of grief and longing in the girl's
voice made something come into Aunt Hepsy's throat, and she slipped
noiselessly downstairs.

"I don't feel easy in my mind, Josh," she said when she re-entered
the kitchen. "I'm feared we've been rayther hard on Hetty's children.
She never did us any harm."

"Did I say she did, Hepsy?" asked Uncle Josh, serenely puffing away
at his pipe. "You was allus the worst at her and at the children. Ye
put upon that Lucy in a perfectly awful way."

"Shut up," said Miss Hepsy in a tone which admitted of no further
remark, and the subject dropped.

There was a great bustle in the morning, and before Lucy had time to
think about anything Tom had kissed her for the last time, and the
waggon drove away. He waved his handkerchief to her till they were
out of sight; and then she went back to the house sad and pale and
cheerless.

"I guess you needn't fly round much to-day, Lucy," said Aunt Hepsy
with unusual thoughtfulness. "Ye don't look very spry, and feel down
a bit. Never mind, he ain't away for ever."