. Randolph, with
tears in her eyes.

"No, you have done us no wrong. It is in our own hands, you see. We
could say no, even now. Oh, if I dared say it! But I dare not,--that is
worst of all,--I dare not." She gave a dry sort of sob and walked away
rapidly. Mrs. Randolph, left behind, broke down and indulged in a good
fit of crying.

Dear little Annie! she was partly puzzled, partly pleased, partly pained
by the news of what was going to befall her. She clung to her Aunty, and
declared that she could not go. Then Mrs. Randolph talked with her and
explained that Aunty would be better off, and Grandmamma have a more
comfortable house to live in--making pictures of the sweet English home,
the kind people, the dear little brother waiting for her on the other
side of the sea, till Annie felt as if it would be pleasant to go. There
was not much time for discussion; every thing was done in a hurry. Mrs.
Randolph sewed all day long on her machine, making little underclothes
and a pretty blue travelling dress. Miss Pickens patched up one of her
faded silks, for she was to accompany Annie to New York and see her
sail, Mr. Grant paying all the expenses of the journey for both of them.
Grandmamma cried all night, but in the daytime her face looked set and
hard. There were papers to sign and boxes to pack. Beppo seemed to smell
in the air that something was about to happen. All day long he hung
around the hut, whining and sniffing. Now and then he would throw back
his head and give a long, sorrowful bay, which echoed from some distant
point in the pine wood. The last day came,--the last kisses. It was like
a rapid whirling dream, the journey, the steam cars, the arrival in New
York, and Annie only seemed to wake up when she stood on the steamer's
deck and felt the vessel throb and move away. On the wharf, among the
throng of people who had come down to say good-by, stood Aunty's tall
figure in her faded silk and ragged shawl, looking so different from any
one else there. She did not wave her handkerchief or make any sign, but
fixed her eyes on Annie as if she could never look away, and there was
something in the expression of her face which made Annie suddenly burst
into tears. She wiped them fast, but before she could see clearly, the
wharf was far distant, and Aunty's face was only a white spot among
other white spots, which were partly faces and partly fluttering
handkerchiefs. A few minutes more and the spots grew dim, the wharf