carry me to the Chattanooga depot to-morrow morning, as the train
leaves early. I have a little money--seven dollars--that--that
grandpa gave me at different times, and both Brindle's calves belong
to me--he gave them to me--and I thought may be you would pay me a
few dollars for them."

"But you are not ready to start to-morrow."

"Yes, sir, I washed and ironed my clothes yesterday, and what few I
have are all packed in my box. Everything is ready now, and, as I
have to go, I might as well start to-morrow."

"Don't you think you will get dreadfully homesick in about a month,
and write to me to come and fetch you back?"

"I have no home and nobody to love me, how then can I ever be
homesick? Grandpa's grave is all the home I have, and--and--God
would not take me there when I was so sick, and--and--" The quiver
of her face showed that she was losing her self-control, and turning
away, she took the cedar piggin, and went out to milk Brindle for
the last time.

Feeling that they had no right to dictate her future course, neither
the miller nor his wife offered any further opposition, and very
early the next morning, after Mrs. Wood had given the girl what she
called "some good motherly advice," and provided her with a basket
containing food for the journey, she kissed her heartily several
times, and saw her stowed away in the miller's covered cart, which
was to convey her to the railway station. The road ran by the old
blacksmith's shop, and Mr. Wood's eyes filled as he noticed the