Over and over again Agnes read the note till the words seemed burnt into her brain. It meant more than an ordinary farewell. He would never understand now, and he was going back to Virginia and to Alicia. She gasped at the thought of all that the parting meant, and for a moment felt that no force could keep her from seeking to overtake him. She ran back to her mother. “When did he go? When? How long?” “It was an hour after you left. Oh, my child, do not look so! He will come back.” “Too late, too late,” moaned Agnes. “Why do you say that? He will return as soon as his mother ceases to need him. She is very ill, and there is no hope of her recovery. She calls for him, and he will go to remain with her while she lives, be it a long or a short time. It should not be such a grievous thing to you, dear heart, when he will return.” “Oh, mother, mother, you don’t know. There was a misunderstanding, and it was my fault, and now I can never set him right. Oh, no, I see that I never can. Oh, mother, mother, if I had but been at home, all might have been so different. Oh, why did I go?” Her mother put her arms about her, and led her farther under the shadow of the trees. “Dear bairn, I wish I could bear this for you, but I think he loves you, and it may all be for the best; one never knows what the trials are sent for. Do not greet so, my lamb. I know that when troubles come to us when we are young they seem black indeed, and the day of peace and comfort a long way off; but don’t despair, my dear, remember who is a ‘very present help in trouble.’” Agnes sighed, and her choking sobs ceased. “Tell me all he said, mother. It came so suddenly I was not prepared; I ought to be more brave. I am not always so cowardly when troubles come.” “No, dear, you have been the bravest of the brave. There is not very much to tell. He was not here very long, for he was anxious to be on the way as soon as possible, and I think he hoped to be able to meet you. He wishes to reach home as soon as he can. There was a letter from his sister, he said. He thanked us all for our kindness.” “And it is he who has been kind.” “So I told him. He asked for the little box of miniatures. I found it and gave it to him, but he left some books, quite a number which he said he had promised to lend you.” Agnes was quite calm now. “Mother,” she said, “I will trust and wait. You are right, we should not give way to fears. I am glad of the books; they will be a great comfort. Mother, you know--you know how I feel. I am not ashamed that I do care so much, and you said--oh, mother, you said you thought he was not indifferent to me, so I will trust and wait, but oh, mother, comfort me.” “My bairn, my lamb!” The mother’s arms were again about her. “What more can I say? Be patient and endure and all will be well. It may be only a short time before he is here again, and you may be all the happier because of this parting.”