"No train?"

"No; there ain't any afternoon train from the Falls to Lincoln."

"Then I'm going over to the Slocums' again to-night."

However, Rebecca did not go; such a rain came up as deterred even
her resolution, and she had only her best dresses with her. Then
in the evening came the letter from the Michigan village which she
had left nearly a week ago. It was from her cousin, a single
woman, who had come to keep her house while she was away. It was a
pleasant unexciting letter enough, all the first of it, and related
mostly how she missed Rebecca; how she hoped she was having
pleasant weather and kept her health; and how her friend, Mrs.
Greenaway, had come to stay with her since she had felt lonesome
the first night in the house; how she hoped Rebecca would have no
objections to this, although nothing had been said about it, since
she had not realized that she might be nervous alone. The cousin
was painfully conscientious, hence the letter. Rebecca smiled in
spite of her disturbed mind as she read it, then her eye caught the
postscript. That was in a different hand, purporting to be written
by the friend, Mrs. Hannah Greenaway, informing her that the cousin
had fallen down the cellar stairs and broken her hip, and was in a
dangerous condition, and begging Rebecca to return at once, as she
herself was rheumatic and unable to nurse her properly, and no one
else could be obtained.

Rebecca looked at Mrs. Dent, who had come to her room with the
letter quite late; it was half-past nine, and she had gone upstairs