the wrinkled
face so calmly sleeping, 'Lena gazed through blinding tears upon each
lineament, striving to imprint it upon her heart's memory, and
wondering if they would ever meet again. The hand which had so often
rested caressingly upon her young head, was lying outside the
counterpane, and with one burning kiss upon it she turned away, first
placing the lamp by the window, where its light, shining upon her
from afar, would be the last thing she could see of the home she was
leaving.

The road to Midway, the nearest railway station, was well known to
her, and without once pausing, lest her courage should fail her, she
pressed forward. The distance which she had to travel was about
three and a half miles, and as she did not dare trust herself in the
highway, she struck into the fields, looking back as long as the
glimmering light from the window could be seen, and then when that
home star had disappeared from view, silently imploring aid from Him
who alone could help her now. She was in time for the cars, and,
though the depot agent looked curiously at her slight, shrinking
figure, he asked no questions, and when the train moved rapidly away,
'Lena looked out upon the dark, still night, and felt that she was a
wanderer in the world.

CHAPTER XXXII.

REACTION.

The light of a dark, cloudy morning shone faintly in at the window of
Grandma Nichols's room, and roused her from her slumber. On the
pillow beside her rested no youthful head--there was no kind voice
bidding her "good-morrow"--no gentle hand ministering to her
comfort--for 'Lena was gone, and on the table lay the note, which at
first escaped Mrs. Nichols's attention. Thinking her granddaughter
had arisen early and gone before her, she attempted to make her own
toilet, which was nearly completed, when her eye caught the note. It
was directed to her, and with a dim foreboding she: took it up,
reading that her child was gone--gone from those who should have
sustained her in her hour of trial, but who, instead, turned against
her, crushing her down, until in a state of desperation she had fled.
It was in vain that the breakfast-bell rang out its loud summons.
Grandma did not heed it; and when Corinda came up to seek her, she
started back in affright at the scene before her. Mrs. Nichols's cap
was not yet on, and her thin gray locks fell around her livid face as
she swayed from side to side, moaning at intervals, "God forgive me
that I broke her h