"And you will come back in a year?" "I hope so, please God." "Then I shall be growing quite a woman," she said thoughtfully. The next moment she raised her face quickly to his. The tears were streaming down it. As he bent to her, she caught him round the neck, and kissed him once, twice, thrice, with more than the passionate affection, but with all the innocence, of a child. Then she ran into the house; and Joshua, taking that as a farewell, walked slowly homewards, to go through the hardest trial of all. That hardest trial through which he had to go awaited him at home. All the members of the Marvel family, and Dan and Ellen Taylor, were assembled together in the old familiar kitchen. They were all of them sad at heart, and made themselves sadder by vain little attempts to be cheerful. The tea was a very silent affair, and the two or three extra delicacies provided by Mrs. Marvel--as if it were a feast they were sitting down to--were failures. The most remarkable feature about the tea was the pretence they all made to eat and drink a great deal, and the miserableness of the result. They pretended to accomplish prodigies, and handed about the bread-and-butter and the cake very industriously, as if it were each person's duty to be mightily anxious about every other person's appetite, and to utterly ignore his own. But every thing in the way of eating and drinking was a mistake. The bread-and-butter was disregarded, and was taken away in disgrace; the cake was slighted, and retired in dudgeon. It was a relief when the tea-things were cleared. Mrs. Marvel was the bravest of the party; she who had so strongly protested against Joshua's going to sea, did all she could to administer little crumbs of comfort to every one of them, and especially to her husband, who had so heartily encouraged Joshua not to do as his father had done before him, but who was now the most outwardly miserable person in the kitchen. Thus, Mrs. Marvel sang snatches of songs, and bustled about as if she really enjoyed Joshua's going, and was glad to get rid of him. When she had accomplished a good deal of nothing, she rose and did nothing else; and when that was done, she sat down and remonstrated with her good man, and would even have rejoiced if she could have worried him into blowing her up. "Don't take on so, George," she said; "you ought to be cheerful to-night of all nights. What is the use of fretting? Joshua's going to make a man of himself, and to do good for all of us--ain't you, my dear?" "I intend it, mother, you may be sure." "Of course you do; and here is father in the dumps when he ought to be up in the skies." "Some day, I hope," said George Marvel, mustering up spirit to have his joke in the midst of his sadness; "not just now, though. I want to see what sort of a figure Josh will cut in the world first. Give me my pipe, Maggie."