Corona looked, and her heart leaped with joy to see the dear, familiar faces of the colored servants who had been about her from her childhood. For there on the front seat of the wagon sat old John, from Rockhold, with the reins in his hands, drawing up the team of mules, while on one side of him sat his middle-aged wife, Martha, the housekeeper, and on the other his young daughter, Phebe, once lady's maid to Corona Rothsay. Corona uttered a little cry of joy as she hastened toward the wagon. The three colored people saw her at once, and, with the unconventionally of their old servitude, shouted out in chorus: "How do, Miss C'rona?" "Sarvint, Miss C'rona!" "Didn't 'spect to see we dem come trapesin' arter yer 'way out yere, did yer now?" And they also grinned and bobbed, and bobbed and grinned, between every word, as they tumbled off their seats and ran to meet her. Mr. Clarence hoisted the two women to their seats, one on each side of the driver, and then turned to Corona. "Come, my dear. Let me put you into our carriage," he said, as he drew her arm within his own and led her on. "Oh! I have not taken leave of Colonel ---- yet. "Where is he?" she inquired, looking around. "Here I am, my dear Mrs. Rothsay. Waiting at the carriage door to put you in your seat and to wish you a pleasant journey. And certainly, if this initial day is any index, you will have a pleasant one, for I never saw finer weather at this season of the year," said the colonel, cheerily, as he received Corona from her uncle's hand, and, with the stately courtesy of the olden time, placed her in her seat. "I thank you, colonel, for all the kindness I have received at your hands and at those of Mrs. ----. I shall never forget it. Good by," said Corona, giving him her hand. He lifted the tips of her fingers to his lips, bowed, and stepped back. Mr. Clarence entered the carriage and gave the order to the young coachman. Carriage and covered wagon then fell into the procession, which began to move on. A farewell gun was fired from the fort. "Uncle Clarence," said Corona, after the party had been on the road some hours--"Uncle Clarence, how came you first to think of such a strange move as to leave the works and come out here? And when did you first make up your mind to do it?" "I think, Cora, my dear, that the idea came vaguely into my mind, as a mere possibility, after my father's death. It occurred to me that there was no absolute necessity for my remaining longer at the works. You see, Cora, however much I might have wished for a change in my life, I never could have vexed my father by even expressing such a wish, while he lived. After his death I thought of it vaguely." "Oh! why didn't you tell me?" "My mind was not made up; therefore I spoke of the matter to no one. I only hinted something to you, when on bidding you good by at North End Junction I told you that you might possibly see me before you would expect to do so."