ates, cast looks of affectionate pity at her mistress and
friend. She had been crying herself, but her sorrow had taken
a quiet form.

"Don't ye!" she said in a troubled voice, and laying her
shrivelled hand timidly on Mrs. Landholm's shoulder, -- "don't
ye, Mis' Landholm. He's in the Lord's hand, -- and just you let
him be there."

Mrs. Landholm threw her apron over her face and went out of
the kitchen into her own room. The old woman continued to go
round the table, gathering the plates, but very evidently busy
with something else; and indeed humming or talking to herself,
in a voice far from steady,

"'There is a happy land,
Where parting is unknown --'"

She broke off and sat down and put her face in her hands and
wept.

"Oh Lord! -- oh good Lord! -- I wish I was there! -- Be still
Karen -- that's very wicked -- wait, wait. 'They shall not be
ashamed that wait for him,' he said, -- They will not be
ashamed," she repeated, looking up, while the tears streamed
down her cheeks. "I will wait. But oh! -- I wisht I had
patience! I want to get straight out of trouble, -- I do. Not
yet, Karen, -- not yet. 'When _he_ giveth quietness, then who can
make trouble?' That's it -- that's my way."

She went about her business and quietly finished it.

It had long been done, and the afternoon was wearing well on,
when Mrs. Landholm came into the kitchen again. Karen had
taken care of the children meanwhile. But where was Winthrop?
The mother, now quite herself, bethought her of him. Karen
knew he was not about the house. But Mrs. Landholm saw that
one of the big barn doors was open, and crossed over to it. A
small field lay between that and the house. The great barn
floor was quite empty, as she entered, except of hay and
grain, with which the sides were tightly filled up to the top;
the ends were neatly dressed off; the floor left clean and
bare. It oddly and strongly struck her, as she saw it, the
thought of the hands that had lately been so busy there; the
work left, the hands gone; and for a few moments she stood
absolutely still, feeling and putting away the idea that made
her heart ache. She had a battle to fight before she was
mistress of herself and could speak Winthrop's name. Nobody
answered; and scolding herself for the tone of her voice, Mrs.
Landholm spoke again. A little rustling let her know that she
was heard; and presently Winthrop made his appearance from
below or from some distant corner behind t