been possible for her
to see as she was borne along the familiar road, she would have
regarded everything in much the same fashion that she did now. She
looked at everything--every tree, every house and wall--with a pang
of parting forever. She felt as if she should never see them again in
their old light.

The poor-house was three miles out of the village; the road lay past
Richard Alger's house. When they drew near it Sylvia bent her head
low and averted her face; she shut her eyes behind the black roses.
She did not want to know when she passed the house. An awful shame
that Richard should see her riding past to the poor-house seized upon
her.

The wood-sled went grating on, a chain rattled; she calculated that
they were nearly past when there was a jerk, and Jonathan Leavitt
cried "Hullo!"

"Where are you going?" shouted another voice. Sylvia knew it. Her
heart pounded. She turned her face farther to one side, and did not
open her eyes.

Richard Alger came plunging down out of his yard. His handsome face
was quite pale under a slight grizzle of beard, he was in his
shirt-sleeves, he had on no dicky or stock, and his sinewy throat
showed.

"Where you goin'?" he gasped out again, as he came up to the sled.

"I'm a takin' Sylvy home. Why?" inquired Jonathan Leavitt, with a
dazed look.

"Home? What are you headed this way for? What are all those things on
the sled?"

"She's lived out her place, an' the town's jest took it; guess you
didn't know, Richard," said Jonathan Leavitt. His eyes upon the other
man were half shrewdly inquiring, half bewildered.

Sylvia never turned her head. She sat with her eyes closed behind her
veil.

[Illustration: "Sylvia never turned her head"]

"Just turn that sled 'round," said Richard Alger.

"Turn the sled 'round?"

"Yes, turn it 'round!" Richard himself grasped the bay horse by the
bit as he spoke. "Back, back!" he shouted.

"What are you doin' on, Richard?" cried the old man; but he pulled
his right rein mechanically, and the sled slewed slowly and safely
around.

Richard jumped on and stood just beside Sylvia, holding to a stake.
"Where d'ye want to go?" asked the old man.

"Back."

"But the town--"

"I'll take care of the town."

Jonathan Leavitt drove back. Sylvia opened her eyes a little way, and
saw Richard's back. "You'll catch cold without your coat," she half
gasped.

"No, I sha'n't," returned Richard, but he did not turn his head.

Sylvia did