Hanny squeezed her hand. The throng of children ran over the grassy path from the shop; and they all began to clamour that Polly and Janey should come up Saturday and go crabbing with them. Mrs. Odell said she'd see, if they could get their work done in time. There was a hubbub of good-byes, and the small cavalcade started down the road. CHAPTER X WITH A POET The city by the sea sung itself in Hanny's brain. The sweet, young, beautiful wife, ruthlessly torn away, was somewhere in space, among the stars perhaps, and not in the old graveyard. She was floating on and on amidst all lovely things and divine fragrances. She could never grow old; she would never want for anything. Ah, would she not want for the mother and the poet who loved her? An incident that had moved her strongly only a few weeks before, was a strange bit of reminiscence that could hardly be called a story. Ben had brought home a volume of De Quincey, and "Suspiria de Profundis" was among the papers. The others were too intellectual to interest her; but the touching, tender, immeasurable longing for the little sister gone out of life, filled her inmost soul with an emotion so sacred she could not talk it over with any one. This was akin to it. Yet Hanny did not live in the clouds or in vague memories all the time. Her father drove up the next day, and found she was not homesick; and her mother was coming up the next week to spend the day; and everybody was well. She had a great deal to tell him; and she seemed very merry. He wasn't quite sure about the crabbing expedition; but Mrs. Odell said there wasn't a mite of danger, for some of the big boys always went along; and that it was a regular frolic for the children. So Saturday they put on their oldest clothes. Hanny wore an outgrown frock of Polly's. Mr. Odell said he would drive them down to the river, which would save half the walk. He had some business in that direction. He had the farm-waggon, and put some hay in the bottom, though he insisted Hanny should sit on the seat with him. They stopped at Fordham, and took in another relay; and the children were wild with the unreasoning gladness of youth. Mr. Odell was in an uncommon good-humour, and took them down the river quite a distance, to High Bridge, and then up again, when they espied the boys and baskets and the net, which had a long handle and looked to Hanny like a butterfly-net, only larger. A motley crew they were. The boys had their trousers rolled above their knees, and some of the girls took off their shoes and stockings and waded about in the wet, sedgy grass. There was a little dock where the boats were tied; and soon two of them were loosened and filled up with a jolly crew. Big, cheerful Cousin Ben took charge of the little girl, and would not allow the others to frighten her. Ann was quite a famous hand on these expeditions.