To the aged couple, parting for the first time with their darling, the day was very sad; but they would not intrude their grief upon the young girl looking so eagerly forward to the new life opening before her; only grandpa’s voice faltered a little when, in the morning prayer, he commended his child to God, asking that she might be kept from temptation, and that the new sights and scenes to which she was going might not beget in her a love of the world’s vanities, or a disgust for her old home; but that she might come back to it the same loving, happy child as she was then, and never be ashamed of the parents to whom she was so dear. There was an answering sob from the chair where Maddy knelt, and after the devotions were ended, she wound her arm around her grandfather’s neck, and parting his silvery locks, said to him earnestly: “Grandpa, do you think I could ever be ashamed of you and grandma?” “I hope not, darling; it would break our hearts; but finery and things is mighty apt to set folks up, and after you’ve walked a spell on them velvet carpets, you’ll no doubt think your feet make a big noise on our bare kitchen floor.” “That may be, but I shan’t be ashamed of _you_. No, not if I were Mrs. Guy Remington herself.” And Maddy emphasized her words with a kiss, as she thought how nice it would be, provided she were a widow, to be Mrs. Guy Remington, and have her grandparents live at Aikenside with her. “But, pshaw! I’ll never be Mrs. Anybody; and if I am, I’ll have to have a husband, which would be such a bother!” was her next mental comment, as, leaving her grandfather, she went to help her grandmother with the breakfast dishes, wondering when she would wipe those blue cups again, and how she should probably feel when she did. Quickly the morning passed, and just as the clock struck two the doctor’s buggy appeared over the hill. Up to this moment Maddy had only been happy in anticipation; but when, with her shawl and bonnet on, she stood waiting while the doctor fastened her little trunk, and when she saw a tear on the wrinkled faces of both her grandparents, her fortitude gave way; and mid a storm of sobs she said her good-byes and received her grandfather’s blessing. It was very pleasant that afternoon, for the summer breeze was blowing cool across the fields, where the laborers were busy; and with the elasticity of youth, Maddy’s tears stopped flowing, but not until the dear old home had disappeared, and she was some distance on the road to Aikenside. “I wonder how I shall like Mrs. Remington and Mr. Guy?” was the first remark she made. “You’ll not see them immediately. They left this morning for Saratoga,” the doctor replied. “Left! Mr. Guy gone?” Maddy repeated, in a disappointed tone. “Are you very sorry?” the doctor asked, and Maddy replied: “I did want to see him once; you know I never have.”