everything they could lay their hands on, and they were soon compelled
to leave their Fifth Avenue mansion. The little place in the country,
given to Edith partly in jest by her father as a birthday present, was
now their only refuge, and to this they prepared to go on the first of
April. Edith, as usual, took the lead, and was to go in advance of the
others with such furniture as they had been able to keep, and prepare
for their coming. Old Hannibal, who had grown gray in the service of
the family, and now declined to leave it, was to accompany her. On a
dark, lowering day, symbolic of their fortunes, some loaded drays took
down to the boat that with which they would commence the meagre
housekeeping of their poverty. Edith went slowly down the broad steps
leading from her elegant home, and before she entered the carriage
turned for one lingering, tearful look, such as Eve may have bent upon
the gate of Paradise closing behind her, then sprang into the
carriage, drew the curtains, and sobbed all the way to the boat.
Scarcely once before, during that long, hard month, had she so given
way to her feelings. But she was alone now and none could see her
tears and call her weak. Hannibal took his seat on the box with the
driver, and looked and felt very much as he did when following his
master to Greenwood.




CHAPTER VIII

WARPED