“That’s what it looks like. However, let us hope it will not come about. Here, you may read the letter; there is one enclosed from Rhoda which will give you her news, such as it is.” Lettice read the two letters and returned them without a word; then she went to the window and looked out. “I am very fond of Rhoda,” she remarked after a little while. “Her letter did not show that she was in very good spirits, Aunt Martha.” “Rhoda is not one to show great enthusiasm,” Aunt Martha replied. “No, I know that; but she does sometimes write more cheerfully. I wonder will she ever marry.” Her aunt made no answer, but instead, arose and observed, “I must get the house well in order for Thomas’s home-coming.” “Will they be here in time for the wedding?” “They will make the effort.” “I believe Patsey would be perfectly willing to wait for the sake of having Uncle Tom here.” “I don’t believe in putting off weddings,” said Betty, coming in. “It has already been put off once. You must have a new gown for the occasion, Lettice. I have been telling you that for weeks; it isn’t like you to be so indifferent to such things.” “There is time enough before New Year’s Eve.” “Yes, but time flies. Come, go down with me and select it. There will be nothing so good for you as a shopping expedition. I must stop in Lovely Lane to attend to a matter, and then we will give ourselves up to choosing your bridesmaid gown. Lutie can look after the boy, I suppose.” “Yes, and will be glad to do it. I must look out for a gay calico for Lutie’s Christmas.” “You spoil her,” remarked Aunt Martha. “Maybe; but I am so glad to have her with me again.” She came down a little later, cloaked and tippeted, her curls peeping from under her beaver hat. Betty looked at her mischievously. “You are decked out fairly well, Letty. I’ll warrant more than one head will be turned over a shoulder to look after you this morning.” “I care not whether any turn,” sighed Lettice. “Ah-h, that accounts for your pensiveness; your poor little heart has slipped its leash, and you are pining for--Did I hear Aunt Martha say she had a letter from Rhoda? Lettice, you are not mourning for Robert Clinton?” “How many times must I tell you, no, no, no!” replied Lettice, pettishly. “I don’t care a whit for him, as you know well; yet, all this morning’s news has brought back the past very vividly, and makes me remember that my home is gone; and my two brothers--one lies on the shores of the great lakes, and one in our own forsaken graveyard. To think that, after all, poor Tom should be denied a resting-place beside his own kith and kin.”