Mrs. Cobb stood behind the screen door with her face pressed
against the wire netting, and Rebecca could see that she was
wiping her eyes.

All at once the child's heart gave one prophetic throb and then
stood still. She was like a harp that vibrated with every wind of
emotion, whether from another's grief or her own.

She looked down the lane, around the curve of the stone wall, red
with woodbine, the lane that would meet the stage road to the
station. There, just mounting the crown of the hill and about to
disappear on the other side, strode a stranger man, big and tall,
with a crop of reddish curly hair showing from under his straw
hat. A woman walked by his side, and perched on his shoulder,
wearing his most radiant and triumphant mien, as joyous in
leaving Edgewood as he had been during every hour of his sojourn
there--rode Jack-o'-lantern!

Rebecca gave a cry in which maternal longing and helpless,
hopeless jealousy strove for supremacy. Then, with an impetuous
movement she started to run after the disappearing trio.

Mrs. Cobb opened the door hastily, calling after her, "Rebecca,
Rebecca, come back here! You mustn't follow where you haven't any
right to go. If there'd been anything to say or do, I'd a' done
it."

"He's mine! He's mine!" stormed Rebecca. "At least he's yours and
mine!"