be a comfort to you."

But Polly shook her head violently.

"I'd rather be alone, mamma. I shall get along beautifully, and
you've no idea what good care I'll take of papa."

Mrs. Adams was crossing the room to get her slippers. As she
passed Polly, she stooped to kiss her.

"And you have no idea," she said, "what a comfort it is to me that
you take it so bravely. I know it will be forlorn for you, but
there isn't any help for it. Papa is getting ready, now, to drive
us to the station, for it is almost time for the train."

As she spoke, the doctor's voice was heard from below, calling to
them to hurry; Aunt Jane swept out from her room; Mrs. Adams
snapped the fastener of her bag and turned to say good by to her
daughter. Polly went down-stairs behind her and stood in the door,
looking after them with rather a long face, though she waved her
hand bravely until they were around the corner.

Then she went back up-stairs, feeling as if, all at once, an
earthquake had struck their quiet home. She and her mother had
rarely been separated, and the suddenness and sadness of the
present summons only added to the loneliness. The house was in
that state of disorder which always follows a hurried packing, and
Polly went mechanically up and down, putting the rooms in order
while, in imagination, she followed the travellers to the train.
Then, when, all was done, she went into her own room and sat down