He saw she had been weeping, and though he could not appreciate the cause of her tears, in his heart he pitied her, and his voice and manner were unusually kind as he helped her to the best seat in the wagon, and asked if she were comfortable.  Then his eye fell upon her dress, and his pity changed to anger as he wondered if she was wholly devoid of taste.  At the time of his father’s death, he purchased decent mourning for both his mother and ’Lena; but these Mrs. Nichols pronounced “altogether too good for the nasty cars; nobody’d think any better of them for being rigged out in their best meetin’ gowns.”

So the bombazine was packed away, and in its place she wore a dark blue and white spotted calico, which John could have sworn she had twenty years before, and which was not unlikely, as she never wore out a garment.  She was an enemy to long skirts, hence hers came just to her ankles, and as her black stockings had been footed with white, there was visible a dark rim.  Altogether she presented a rather grotesque appearance, with her oblong work-bag, in which were her snuff-box, brass spectacles and half a dozen “nutcakes,” which would “save John’s buying dinner.”

Unlike her grandmother’s, ’Lena’s dress was a great deal too long, and as she never wore pantalets, she had the look of a premature old woman, instead of a child ten summers old, as she was.  Still the uncommon beauty of her face, and the natural gracefulness of her form, atoned in a measure for the singularity of her appearance.

In the doorway stood Miss Nancy, and by her side her nephew, Joel Slocum, a freckle-faced boy, who had frequently shown a preference for ’Lena, by going with her for her grandmother’s cow, bringing her harvest apples, and letting her ride on his sled oftener than the other girls at school.  Strange to say, his affection was not returned, and now, notwithstanding he several times wiped both eyes and nose, on the end of which there was an enormous freck, ’Lena did not relent at all, but with a simple “Good-bye, Jo,” she sprang into the wagon, which moved rapidly away.

It was about five miles from the farmhouse to the depot, and when half that distance had been gone over, Mrs. Nichols suddenly seized the reins, ordering the driver to stop, and saying, “she must go straight back, for on the shelf of the north room cupboard she had left a whole paper of tea, which she couldn’t afford to lose!”

“Drive on,” said Johny rather angrily, at the same time telling his mother that he could buy her a ton of tea if she wanted it.

“But that was already bought, and ’twould have saved so much,” said she, softly wiping away a tear, which was occasioned partly by her son’s manner, and partly by the great loss she felt she sustained in leaving behind her favorite “old hyson.”