Hazel read to them for a long time that evening; it was easier than to talk. She read the favorite poem of each; for Granny, “The Hen with One Chicken,” who thought she was so much busier than the ducks and turkeys with their broods; for Scip, “The Night with a Wolf,” “The Captain’s Daughter,” and the one she, too, liked so much, of the little girl in the woods. “Are you not often, little maid, Beneath the sighing trees afraid?” And the little girl’s answer: “Afraid, beneath the tall, strong trees, That bend their arms to shelter me?” “Do you know,” Hazel said confidentially, “I used to be a little frightened in the woods, but I never am now. I think of the poem and I have Scip’s stick!” “I’m coming again,” she said to Scip as he went down the porch to his home. “I’m coming again,” and she repeated it often to Granny before she went to bed. Miss Davis arrived in a carriage the next morning on the front seat with the driver, her trunk behind. Hazel’s was placed beside it, and then the child turned to say good-bye. Scipio was there with Theora and Tom hanging shyly to their big brother. He was very gentle with them. Hazel kissed both the children good-bye, and put out her hand to Scip. He took it and said softly, “Good-bye, Sister.” Granny held her close and could not let her go. “You’s been the light of my house,” she said. “Tell your mother I bless her for letting me have you. And I send you back to her sound and well, honey. She’ll be full of happiness. But we-all ’ll miss you sorely.” Hazel could only give her one more hug. Then she scrambled to the seat between the driver and Miss Davis, and the horse started off. When she looked back she saw Granny standing in the road, her hand on Scipio’s shoulder. CHAPTER XIII HOME It was necessary to stay in Montgomery over night in order to make railroad connections; so Hazel was able to visit Mr. and Mrs. Jenks again, while Miss Davis went to a hotel. Mrs. Jenks and her husband were delighted at the change in Hazel’s appearance. The thin, shy child had grown almost plump and was full of spirits. She talked gaily at dinner, she romped with the children, and she gave her host such a generous good-night hug that he was breathless and disheveled when it was over. “Excuse me,” Hazel called as she ran upstairs, “but that is the way Mr. Perkins likes me to say good-night to him. And, oh,” ecstatically, “I shall see him next Sunday!” The following morning Mrs. Jenks put up an enormous box of luncheons and breakfasts and suppers for Hazel. Such a quantity of bread and butter sandwiches, such a lot of sliced chicken and hard-boiled eggs, and a jar of guava jelly with a spoon that didn’t have to be returned. “It will be less expensive for you than to get your meals on the train,” Mrs. Jenks began hesitatingly.