"'You see,' stuttered Stiger, 'she's been sort o' poorly and droopy for three weeks, and better. I've been 'lotting to go for you, but thought maybe she mought be able to pick up after awhile. To-night I was so hungry myself that I didn't notice her at supper. She was mighty poking all the evenin', and jest now, she waked me. 'Jeemes,' says she, 'when folks' appetites gives out, they dies--don't they?' "'Yes, honey,' says I. "'Then farewell,' says she; 'I'm a-goin'. I wouldn't say nothin' about it at first, but I couldn't die without tellin' you I was a-departin'.' "'O, Susan!' says I; 'how come you to think you are dyin'. "'Jeemes,' says she, solemn as could be; 'I couldn't eat no supper, 'cept one herring and a pone of bread, and one cup of coffee.' "'Doctor! you think she'll live 'till day? Oh! if I had a-gone for you three weeks ago!'"[1] [Footnote 1: Fact.] "'When shall we all meet again?'" said Lynn that night, at the hour for separation. "At Christmas, probably--next summer, certainly," replied Arthur's cheerful voice. "We have been too happy together to hope for a repetition of the pleasure," said Ida. "Two such summers would be more than falls to the share of most mortals." "If we never meet again in this life, we shall see each other somewhere at the end of the turnpike," observed Charley. Sad as were the feelings of the little company, they smiled at his tone and action. "Hush, Charley! I am petitioning Ida for a song," said Carry. "One of your own, my dear. We like no other so well. Just one more, that I may fancy I hear whenever I enter this room." "A parting lay from our Improvisatrice," entreated Dr. Carleton. Her voice was uncertain and low, but she sang the simple ballad with a pathos, that brought the moisture to the eyes of more than one of her auditors. "Away with thoughts of sadness, love! I will be gay to-night! I would awhile indulge the hopes, To-morrow's sun will blight. Oh! once again, our favorite songs, Together let us sing; And thus forget the wailing strain To-morrow's eve will bring. Away with thoughts of sadness, love! I must be gay to-night! "Alas! 'tis vain! we who have loved So long and well, must part! The smile has faded from my cheek The gladness from my heart. And since at this, our sad farewell, For months, perchance, for years, We cannot join in blithesome lay, Oh! let us mingle tears! Away with thoughts of gladness, love! For I must weep to-night!" CHAPTER XI.