At last the odious depôt-bell rung--soon after the "fire-demon" heaved in sight, followed by its long train of crowded cars. In ten minutes the leave-taking was all over, our friends were seated--their "worldly goods" were stowed away--another ring of the bell, that never sounded half so remorselessly before, and away they went, over the road--across the bridge--past the burial-ground--and on--on--on! To my bosom I pressed a package Florence had given to me that morning of her departure, which she bade me not open till she was fairly gone. I need not tell you how I hastened home when I had seen her depart--how, with just one look at their old garden, which ran back of my father's house, through whose paths we had wandered so often together--how with one thought of how lonely I was and always should be, now that _she_ was gone, I hied away to my room, that I might be alone with my sorrow. But every thing seemed determined to speak out to me of _her_; there, by the window, was _her_ "old arm-chair;" she had given it to me as a keepsake; and many, many a time had the broad, leather-covered seat supported us both--so, of course, the very sight of that gave me such a blue-fit that I threw myself into its open "arms," and indulged in the most luxurious fit of weeping, the length whereof might be counted by hours, not by minutes. But when I had fairly "cried it out," (you know all things must have an end,) I went to bed with the most dreadful headache conceivable, and opened with more of regret than curiosity, the last "testament" of dear Flory. It was in the shape of a long, long letter, filling many pages of paper; but I shall not indulge you, reader, with a glance even, at all the contents--satisfy yourself with these few extracts, and oblige yours, &c. "Writing is not my _forte_, Carry, you know that very well," the epistle began, "but I had for a long time determined to explain myself to you; and when father finally succeeded in convincing mother that the West is _such_ a wonderful country, and that it is the best and only place for them to safely settle _our_ troop of boys, then I made up my mind to _write_ you what I had intended to speak. Don't think me vain, but I'm going to be my own heroine in these pages; I'm going to give you the key wherewith to unfold parts of my life, which you, with others, may now think quite unexplainable.