was raw and chilly, with the wind fresh from
the sea and the sky dull, she was out on the front porch
without shawl or hat, looking down the path, covered
now with dead leaves, and scanning closely every
team that passed the gate, only to return again to
her place by the fire, more impatient than ever.

Meg's quick ear first caught the grating of the
wheels. Jane followed him with a cry of joyous expectation,
and flew to the door to meet the stage, which
for some reason--why, she could not tell--had
stopped for a moment outside the gate, dropping only
one passenger, and that one the nurse.

"And Lucy did not come, Martha!" Jane exclaimed,
with almost a sob in her voice. She had
reached her side now, followed by Meg, who was
springing straight at the nurse in the joy of his
welcome.

The old woman glanced back at the stage, as if
afraid of being overheard, and muttered under her
breath:

"No, she couldn't come."

"Oh, I am so disappointed! Why not?"

Martha did not answer. She seemed to have lost
her breath. Jane put her arm about her and led