CHAPTER XXXIII

THE STORY GIRL GOES


The morning dawned, rosy and clear and frosty. Everybody was up
early, for the travellers must leave in time to catch the nine
o'clock train. The horse was harnessed and Uncle Alec was waiting
by the door. Aunt Janet was crying, but everybody else was making
a valiant effort not to. The Awkward Man and Mrs. Dale came to
see the last of their favourite. Mrs. Dale had brought her a
glorious sheaf of chrysanthemums, and the Awkward Man gave her,
quite gracefully, another little, old, limp book from his library.

"Read it when you are sad or happy or lonely or discouraged or
hopeful," he said gravely.

"He has really improved very much since he got married," whispered
Felicity to me.

Sara Stanley wore a smart new travelling suit and a blue felt hat
with a white feather. She looked so horribly grown up in it that
we felt as if she were lost to us already.

Sara Ray had vowed tearfully the night before that she would be up
in the morning to say farewell. But at this juncture Judy Pineau
appeared to say that Sara, with her usual luck, had a sore throat,