"Where? which way did she go?" asked the children breathlessly.
"Over the fence yonder, tearing like mad. She went like a streak o' lightnin' through the kitching here, and I didn't see no more of her after she clum the fence. She's got the hydrophoby bad, you may depend; and I only hope she won't bite nobody, 'fore somebody knocks her in the head."
"No, it's my dolls she's got," said Fan, who had not the slightest idea what "hydrophoby" might be. "O, boys, hurry and catch her 'fore she loses 'em," she called after her brothers as they renewed the pursuit, hurrying across the yard and climbing the fence with a speed that did credit to their ability in that line.
Fan stood beside it, gazing out anxiously through a crack between the high, rough boards till the boys returned all breathless with running, to report, "No Toy and no dolls to be seen anywhere."
"But don't cry," added Cyril, seeing Fan's lips tremble ominously; "she'll come back when she wants her supper; you bet."
"It's wicked to bet," remarked Don virtuously.
"I didn't," said Cyril, "come let's go play in the grove. I'll bend down a tree and give you a nice ride, Fan."
Gotobed Lightcap had just finished a job, and pausing a moment to rest, was wiping the perspiration from his brow with a rather dilapidated specimen of pocket-handkerchief, when a cat darted in at the open door, ran round the smithy in a frightened way, then lay down on the floor and rolled and squirmed kicking its feet in the air in the evident effort to rid itself of something tied to its back.
With a single stride Gotobed was at the side of the struggling animal.
He took it up and in a few seconds had relieved it of its hated incumbrance.
"It's them Keith children's pet cat," he said half aloud, "and they've been a tyin' some of their doll babies onto it. There you kin go, puss; don't take up yer lodgin' here; for we've cats enough o' our own.
"Eh! what's this?" as his eye fell on the letter and he recognized his own awkward, ill-shaped hieroglyphics.
He felt his face grow very red and hot as he straightened it out upon his knees, his heart fluttering with the thought of the possibility that it might have been some little liking for the writer that had prevented its immediate destruction.
There were some words in pencil along the margin; he held it up to the light and slowly deciphered them.
He was not much accustomed to reading writing and this had become slightly blurred: but he made it out clearly at last; a jesting remark about his mistakes in spelling and grammar, which were many and glaring.
"I wouldn't ha' believed it of her!" he exclaimed, crimsoning with anger and shame as he flung the torn and crumpled sheet into the fire of his forge, the dolls after it.
He caught up his hammer and fell to work again, muttering to himself, "It's her writin'; there can't be no mistake; fur it's just like what she writ me afore. And I wouldn't a' believed it of her, I wouldn't; I thought she'd a kind heart and would make allowance fur them that hasn't had the same chance as her."
He had not been wrong in his estimate of Mildred. She would never have wounded his feelings intentionally. She had a habit of writing her thoughts on the margin of what she was reading, and the words had been carelessly traced there with no expectation that they would ever be seen by any eye but her own. Nor would they but for the mischievous meddling of the children.
She set no value upon the letter; did not miss it till months afterwards, and then supposed she had destroyed it, though she could not distinctly remember having done so.
In the meantime Gotobed kept his own counsel, concealing his hurt as well as he could and trying not to hate the hand that had inflicted it.
Chapter Eighteenth.
"Farewell, a long farewell."
The Keiths were scarcely more than well settled in their new home when Miss Stanhope announced her intention of returning to Ohio almost immediately.
This news was received by the family with something akin to consternation. "How could they do without her?" they asked; "didn't everybody need her every day of their lives, from father and mother down to Annis?"
"Ah," she answered smiling, though her eyes were dim with unshed tears, "you'll have each other and will soon find that you can get on very well indeed without your blundering old auntie. But the question is how shall she do without you? The old Lansdale home will be very lonely with no little feet pit-patting about it."
"Then what makes you go, Aunt Wealthy?" chorused the children, clinging to her with many a loving caress.
"I must, my darlings; there's business I have to attend to; and I feel that the ague is breaking me down."
"I fear that is too true," Mrs. Keith said, with a strong effort to speak cheerfully, "and therefore I will not entreat you to stay, dear auntie; but rather urge your departure before the sickly season sets in.
"Though it just breaks my heart to think of the parting!" she added, hurrying from the room to conceal her emotion.
"But you'll come back soon, won't you, auntie?" pleaded the children.
"Not very, I'm afraid, dears, it's a long and expensive journey."
"Too long for you to take alone, Aunt Wealthy," Mildred said. "I dread it for you. I don't see how we can let you go without a protector."
"I shall not, child. Is not the promise to me, 'Behold, I am with thee, and will keep thee in all places whither thou goest?' Yes; to me and to each one of His children. So I am not afraid, and you need not fear for me."
"Dear auntie, if the Saviour were here, I think he would say to you, 'O woman, great is thy faith!'"
"My dear, I deserve no such commendation; my faith is often very weak. But I want you to remember and try to realize that this almighty Friend not only goes with me when I leave you, but stays with you also; according to His gracious promise, 'I will never leave thee nor forsake thee.'
"Troubles and trials will come and there are dark and stormy days in every life—but 'as thy days so shall thy strength be.'
"I can not tell you, Mildred, how hard it is for me to leave you all," she continued, her voice trembling with emotion, "but it would be ten times harder were it not that I know 'this God is our God forever and ever;' and that 'he will be our guide even unto death.'"
"Aunt Wealthy," said Mrs. Keith coming in again, "Stuart and I have been talking this over—this resolve of yours to return to Ohio—and he says it will never do for you to attempt it without an escort."
"I shall be very glad of an escort, if there is one to be had," Miss Stanhope answered; "but if not, I must even go without—trusting in Providence."
"But you would wait a few weeks rather than go alone?"
"Certainly; God works by means, and we are to use them, while at the same time we trust only
