her departure.

Her trunks were packed.

She took a night train so that we could all go to the station to see
her off, and I am sure that the crowd who saw us kissing her good-bye
are not likely to forget the scene.

Then the girls went home chattering about "dear little Josephine."

In due time came a letter from a place near Utica, where she was, she
said, on her little "wedding trip," and "very happy," and "he" sent
his love, and it was signed with her new name, and she would send us
her address as soon as she was settled.

Time went by--some months. Then she did send an address, but she did
not write often, and when she did, she said little but that she was
happy.

As nearly as I can remember, it was a year and a half after she left
that news came that Josephine had a son. By that time a great many of
the girls she had known were gone. Changes come fast in such a place.
But there was great rejoicing, and those who had known her found time
to make something for dear little Josephine's baby, and the sending of
the things kept up the interest in her for some months.

Then the letters ceased again.

I can't be sure how long it was after that that I received a letter
from her. She told me that her husband was dead, that she never really