Still, she was thinking more of her playmate than of any one else, simply because he had more need of her than any one else. So she went up to her little bookcase and took down all her books and packed them in a trunk that would hold about twenty-five or thirty miscellaneous volumes, comprising nearly all of Peter Parley’s and other juvenile works, that were held in great favor at that time. With these she put in two slates, a dozen graded copy-books, pens, pencils, india-rubber, blotting-papers, inkstand, and every requisite of the school-desk that she could find. Then she locked it and called up old Laban, and said to him: “I want you to shoulder this and take it down to the boat-house for me.” The old servant looked at the trunk and looked at the child, scratched his head, and declared: “I don’t know what you mean, Miss Glo’.” The little creature was not disposed to take airs on herself; so she kindly explained to the old man what she intended to do with the trunk, adding truthfully: “I told Uncle Marcel, and he did not object.” Old Laban then shouldered the trunk and followed his little mistress down the stairs, out of the front door, and so down to the end of the promontory, through the breach in the old sea-wall, and finally to a dilapidated little boat-house, where she directed him to place it. “It will be safe there until the morning and then I can give it to David Lindsay, and he can carry it away in his boat.” The sun had set half an hour before, and it was growing dark, so little Glo’ and her sable companion hurried from the shore back to the house. “Saturday and Sunday! I have only got two days to be with Uncle Marcel and David Lindsay,” said little Glo’ to herself when she awoke the next morning. And to make the most of her time, she hurried out of bed, dressed herself quickly, and ran down stairs. Her aunt and uncle had not yet appeared, so she said to the cook: “Just give me a cup of milk and a biscuit,’Phia, and I will eat my breakfast and go. It is my last day but one at home, and I must make the most of it.” The old woman complied with her request, and the little girl quickly dispatched her meal, snatched her straw hat from the rack in the hall, and ran out of the house and down to the beach. She stood in the breach of the broken wall and looked all around for her playmate, but did not see him, and she thought she was going to be disappointed; but just then she heard the sound of a hammer, and knew it must come from one held in his hand, for there was no one else who worked on the beach. She ran down and found him nailing loose boards on the old boat-house. “Oh! David Lindsay,” she exclaimed, as soon as she saw him, “I have got something to tell you! What do you think it is? Oh, you would never guess! I am going away on Monday!” “Oh! NO!” cried the boy, while a look of blank consternation came over his face. “Indeed, I am! I don’t want to go; but they say I must, David Lindsay.”