out of mischief till he was grown to
man's estate. I was left alone with Miss Pinshon to go back to
Magnolia and take up my old life there.

CHAPTER VII.

SINGLEHANDED.

As my aunt set sail for the shores of Europe, and Miss Pinshon and I
turned our faces towards Magnolia, I seemed to see before me a weary
winter. I was alone now; there was nobody to take my part in small or
great things; my governess would have her way. I was so much stronger
now that no doubt she thought I could bear it. So it was. The full
tale of studies and tasks was laid on me; and it lay on me from
morning till night.

I had expected that. I had looked also for the comfort and refreshment
of ministering to my poor friends in the kitchen on the Sunday
evenings. I began as usual with them. But as the Sundays came round, I
found now and then a gap or two in the circle; and the gaps as time
went on did not fill up; or if they did they were succeeded by other
gaps. My hearers grew fewer, instead of more; the fact was undoubted.
Darry was always on the spot; but the two Jems not always, and Pete
was not sure, and Eliza failed sometimes, and others; and this grew
worse. Moreover, a certain grave and sad air replaced the enjoying,
almost jocund, spirit of gladness which used to welcome me and listen
to the reading and join in the prayers and raise the song. The singing
was not less good than it used to be; but it fell oftener into the
minor key, and then poured along with a steady, powerful volume,
deepening and steadying as it went, which somehow swept over my heart
like a wind from the desert. I could not well tell why, yet I felt it
trouble me; sometimes my heart trembled with the thrill of those sweet
and solemn vibrations. I fancied that Darry's prayer had a somewhat
different atmosphere from the old. Yet when I once or twice asked
Margaret the next morning why such and such a one had not been at the
reading, she gave me a careless answer, that she supposed Mr. Edwards
had found something for them to do.

"But at night, Margaret?" I said. "Mr. Edwards cannot keep them at
work at night."

To which she made no answer; and I was for some reason unwilling to
press the matter. But things went on, not getting better but worse
until I could not bear it. I watched my opportunity and got Maria
alone.

"What is the matter," I asked, "that the people do not come on Sunday
evening as they used? Are they tired of the reading, Maria?"

"I 'spe