proceeded together towards the burying ground. With a bitter cry Mary
threw herself upon her mother's grave, and wept for a long, long time.

"It would not be so bad," said Mary, "if there was any body left, but
I am all alone in the world. Ella does not love me--nobody loves me."

It was in vain that Jenny told her of Billy Bender's love, of her own,
and George Moreland's too. Mary only wept the more, wishing that she
had died, and Allie too. At last remembering that she had left Sal
Furbush behind her, and knowing that it was time for her to go, she
arose, and leaning on Jenny, whose arm was passed lovingly about her,
she started to return.

Afternoon service had commenced ere they reached the church, and as
Mary had no desire of again subjecting her bonnet to the ridicule of
Rose Lincoln, and as Jenny had much rather stay out doors in the
shade, they sat down upon the steps, wondering where Sal Furbush had
taken herself. "I mean to look in and see if she is here," said Jenny,
and advancing on tiptoe to the open door, she cast her eye over the
people within; then clapping her hand over her mouth to keep back a
laugh, she returned to Mary, saying, "Oh, if it isn't the funniest
thing in the world. There sits Sal in Mrs. Campbell's pew, fanning
herself with that great palm-leaf, and shaking her fist at Ella every
time she stirs!"

It seems that Sal had amused herself during the intermission by
examining and trying the different pews, and taking a fancy to Mrs.
Campbell's, she had snugly ensconced herself in one corner of it,
greatly to the fear and mortification of Ella, who chanced to be the
only one of the family present. When service was out, Sal gathered up