Write often and I
will answer, I promise you. I know you'll be lonely after I've gone,
but I have a plan--a secret. If I can carry it through you won't be SO
lonely, I'm pretty sure. And don't worry, will you? The mortgage is all
right and as for the other thing--well, that will be all right, too. You
won't worry, will you?"
"No, no; I'll be too busy to worry. And you'll come down for the
Christmas vacation? You will, won't you?"
"I'll try . . . I mean I will if I can arrange it. Good-by, dear."
The depot-wagon rattled out of the yard. Winnie S. pulled up at the gate
to shout a bit of news.
"Say, Mrs. Barnes," he yelled, "we got one of your boarders over to our
place now. John Kendrick's come there to live. Lots of folks are down
on him 'count of his heavin' you over and takin' up along with Mr.
Holliday; but Dad says he don't care about that so long's he pays his
board reg'lar. Git dap, Old Hundred!"
A last wave of Thankful's hand, the answering wave of a handkerchief
from the rear seat of the depot-wagon, and the parting was over.
Thankful went into the house. Lonely! She had never been more lonely
in her life, except when the news of her husband's death was brought
to her. The pang of loneliness which followed her brother Jedediah's
departure for the Klondike was as nothing to this. She had promised not
to worry, and she must keep that promise, but there was certainly plenty
to cause worry. The mortgage which Emily had so comfortably declared
"all right" was far from that.
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