For several months Margaret had thought of visiting her grandmother, who lived in Albany; and as Mr. Hamilton had occasion to visit that city, Carrie urged her to accompany him saying, she was perfectly able to be left alone, and she wished her sister would go, for the trip would do her good.

For some time past Mrs. Hamilton had seemed exceedingly amiable and affectionate, although her husband appeared greatly depressed, and acted, as Lenora said, “Just as though he had been stealing sheep.”

This depression Mag had tried in vain to fathom, and at last, fancying that a change of place and scene might do him good, she consented to accompany him, on condition that Kate Kirby would stay with Carrie.  At mention of Kate’s name Mr. Hamilton’s eyes instantly went over to his wife, whose face wore the same stony expression as she answered, “Yes, Maggie, can come.”

Accordingly, on the morning when the travelers would start, Kate came up to the homestead, receiving a thousand and one directions about what to do and when to do it, hearing not more than half the injunctions, and promising to comply with every one.  Long before the door the carriage waited, while Margaret, lingering in Carrie’s room, kissed again and again her sister’s pure brow, and gazed into her deep blue eyes, as if she knew that it was the last time.  Even when half way down the stairs she turned back again to say good-by, this time whispering, “I have half a mind not to go, for something tells me I shall never see you again.”

“Oh, Mag,” said Carrie, “don’t be superstitious.  I am a great deal better, and when you come home you will find me in the parlor.”

In the lower hall Mr. Hamilton caressed his little Willie, who begged that he, too, might go.  “Don’t leave, me, Maggie, don’t,” said he, as Mag came up to say good-by.

Long years after the golden curls which Mag pushed back from Willie’s forehead were covered by the dark moist earth, did she remember her baby-brother’s childish farewell, and oft in bitterness of heart she asked, “Why did I go—­why leave my loved ones to die alone?”

Just a week after Mag’s departure news was received at the homestead that Walter was coming to Glenwood for a day or two, and on the afternoon of the same day Kate had occasion to go home.  As she was leaving the house Mrs. Hamilton detained her, while she said, “Miss Kirby, we are all greatly obliged to you for your kindness in staying with Carrie, although your services really are not needed.  I understand how matters stand between you and Walter, and as he is to be here to-morrow; you of course will feel some delicacy about remaining, consequently I release you from all obligations to do so.”

Of course there was no demurring to this.  Kate’s pride was touched; and though Carrie wept, and begged her not to go, she yielded only so far as to stay until the next morning, when, with a promise to call frequently, she left.  Lonely and long seemed the hours to poor Carrie; for though Walter came, he stayed but two days, and spent a part of that time at the mill-pond cottage.