u are gone, never to come back again,
just as you go away."

In an instant Katy was on her knees before Helen whom she tried to
comfort by telling her how she should come back, come often, too,
staying a long while; and that when she had a city home of her own
she should live with her for good, and they would be so happy.

"I cannot quite give Wilford up to please you," she said, when that
gigantic sacrifice suggested itself as something which it was possible
Helen might require of her; "but I will do anything else, only please
don't cry, darling Nellie--please don't cry. It spoils all my pleasure,"
and Katy's soft hands wiped away the tears running so fast over her
sister's face.

After that Helen did not cry again in Katy's presence, but the latter
knew she wanted to and it made her rather sad, particularly when she saw
reflected in the faces of the other members of the family the grief she
had witnessed in Helen. Even Uncle Ephraim was not as cheerful as usual,
and once when Katy came upon him in the woodshed chamber, where he was
shelling corn, she found him resting from his work and looking from the
window far off across the hills, with a look which made her guess he was
thinking of her, and stealing up beside him she laid her hand upon his
wrinkled face, whispering softly: "Poor Uncle Eph, are you sorry, too?"

He knew what she meant, and the aged chin quivered, while a big tear
dropped into the tub of corn, as he replied: "Yes, Katy-did--very
sorry."

That was all he said, and Katy, after smoothing his cheek a moment
kissed his silvery hair and then stole away, wondering if every girl's
family felt so badly before she was married, and wondering next if the
love to which she was going was equal to the love of home, which, as the
days went by, grew stronger and stronger, enfolding her in a mighty
embrace, which could only be severed by bitter tears and fierce
heart-pangs, such as death itself sometimes brings. In that household
there was, after Katy, no one glad of that marriage except the mother,
and she was only glad because of the position it would bring to her
daughter. But among them all Morris suffered most, and suffered more
because he had to endure in secret, to cover up his sorrow so that no
one guessed the pain it was for him to go each day where Katy was, and
watch her as she sometimes donned a part of her finery for his benefit,
asking him once if he did not almost wish he were in Wilford's place,