trouble that had
befallen her, Cherry sat for a long time where he had left her. In her
thoughts she went over and over her happy life for the past year, all that
she had had, and lost. By and by the sun came out in its full strength
and warmed her, and roused her sufficiently to look about her, and wonder
what she should do next, for, of course, she could not stay where she was.

Presently she noticed that she was sitting on the very same stone at the
cross-roads where, on the day she left home, she had sat and cried, and
the strange gentleman had first appeared to her. The recollection brought
back to her more painfully than ever her own foolishness and wickedness,
and all that she had lost, and oh, how miserable she did feel, and how she
cried and cried, and how she longed and longed for her dear, good master
to come again and forgive her.

He did not come, though, and by and by, as the day had worn far on, Cherry
felt that she had better seek her home before nightfall. Listlessly
enough she rose and trudged along the old familiar roads to her father's
house, with miserable eyes she recognized the old landmarks, but without
any pleasure, until at last she came to the poor little hut she called
'home.' It looked poorer, and meaner, and more comfortless than ever,
after the luxuries she had grown accustomed to. Her mother and all the
rest of them were sitting at dinner when Cherry opened the door.
At the sound of the latch Mrs. Honey looked up, and gave one big screech.

"Why, 'tis Cherry!" she cried, "or her ghost! Cross her, father. Cross
her!" And when Cherry, taking no notice of her screams, advanced into the
kitchen, they all backed away from her, one on top of another, each trying
to get behind someone else, for they had long since made up their minds
that Cherry was dead, and never for a moment dreamed that this apparition
was Cherry herself, living flesh and blood.

Not until she flopped into a chair, saying wearily, "Give me a dish of
tay, mother, for goodness sake, I'm so wisht I don't know how to bear with
myself."

"Tisn't no ghost, mother," cried Tom Honey, his courage reviving; "no
ghost would want such poor trade as tay."

Then the others plucked up their spirits, too, and crowded round her,
asking a dozen questions, and all at the same time; and for the sake of
peace and quiet Cherry told them her wonderful adventures from the day she
left them, and, as was to be expected, not one believed