hiskered imp of darkness who had troubled her sleep, and
she must get to town as fast as possible.

She stopped first at the butcher shop. Before grandpa could express
surprise at her unexpected return, she showered him with questions in
regard to happenings at home, and being informed, took him to task for
having permitted us to visit our people at the hotel. He innocently
remarked that he knew of no reason why we should not see our relatives;
that Georgia was spending the day with them; and that we both had his
permission to go again in the evening. In conclusion he said that I had
been a faithful, hard working little housekeeper, and she would find
everything in order at home.

Grandma arrived at home before sunset, too excited to be interested in
dairy matters. She told me all about her trip, even to the name she had
called my brother-in-law, adding that she knew he was "not
red-whiskered, but he was next door to it." Later, when he came, she
did not receive him pleasantly, nor would she let us go to Elitha.
Brusquely, she demanded to know if I had written to him to come for us,
and would not believe him when he assured her that neither he nor our
sisters had received letter or message from us in months.

After his departure, I could see that she was no longer angry, and I
dreaded the ensuing day, which was destined to be my last on that farm.

It came with a rosy dawn, and I was up to meet it, and to say good-bye
to the many dumb creatures that I had cared for. The tension I was
under lent me strength to work faster than usual. When the breakfast
call sounded, I had finished in the corrals, and was busy in the hen
houses, having taken care to keep out of grandpa's sight; for I knew
how he would miss me, and I did not want to say the parting words.
After he and the men were gone, grandma came, and watched me finish my
task, then said kindly,

"Come, Eliza, and eat thy breakfast."

I looked up and replied,

"Grandma, I ate my last meal in thy house last night. Dost thou not
remember, I told thee that I would take care of everything until thy
return, and then would not be a burden to thee longer? I have kept my
word, and am going away this morning."

"Thou are mine, and canst not go; but if thou wilt not eat, come and
help me with the dishes," she replied nervously.

I had planned to slip off and change my dress before meeting her, but
now, after a breath of hesitation, I went to dry the dishes, hoping
that