ch he
set down the cup and put the spoon in, said so; it was in
Winthrop's biscuit, for they were broken and not eaten; it
seemed to be in the very light, to Winifred's eyes, by the
wistful unmarking look she gave to everything the light shined
upon.

It was over; and Mrs. Landholm had risen from the tea-board
and stood by the window. There Winthrop parted from her, after
some tremulous kisses, and with only the low, short, "Good
bye, mother!" He turned to meet the arms of his little sister,
which held him like some precious thing that they might not
hold. It was hard to bear, but he bore it; till she snatched
her arms away from his neck and ran out of the room. Yet she
had not bid him good bye and he stood in doubt, looking after
her. Then remembered Karen.

He went into the kitchen and shook the old shrivelled hand
which was associated in his memory with many an old act of
kindness, many a time of help in days of need.

"Good bye, Karen."

"Well -- good bye, --" said the old woman slowly, and holding
his hand. "I sometimes wonder what ever you were brought into
the world for, Mr. Winthrop."

"Why, Karen?"

"Because I aint much better than a fool," she said, putting
her other hand to her eyes. "But ye're one of the Lord's
precious ones, Governor; he will have service of ye, wherever
ye be."

Winthrop wrung her hand. Quitting her, he saw his sister
waiting for him at the kitchen door. She let him come within
it, and then holding up her Bible which had hung in one hand,
she pointed with her finger to these words where she had it
open; --

"God now commandeth all men everywhere to repent."

Her finger was under the word '_now_.' She added nothing, except
with her eyes, which went wistfully, searchingly, beggingly,
into his; till a film of tears gathered, and the book fell,
and her arms went round him again and her face was hid.

"I know, dear Winnie," he said softly, stooping to her after
the silent embrace had lasted a minute. -- "I must go -- kiss
me."

There was a great deal in her kiss, of hope and despair; and
then he was gone; and she stood at the window looking after
him as long as a bit of him could be seen; clearing away the
tears from her eyes that she might watch the little black
speck of the boat, as it grew less and less, further and
further off down the river. Little speck as it was, he was in
it.

The world seemed to grow dark as she looked, -- in two ways.
The heavy rain clouds that