"Why don't you go 'long with me, then," he said, with a voice rendered husky by cake. "Oh, you've got your cousin Flora. I should think she was enough for any little boy." "She can go to boarding-school with Gabby," said Jay, settling himself closer into Missy's lap, and taking another piece of cake. Missy laughed at this disposition of the triumphant young lady in the other room. "I don't know what she'd say to that, nor papa either," she added, in a lower tone. "Papa wouldn't mind. Papa's a man, and he can do anything he wants to. You can come with us, and you can ride my pony that I'm going to have, and papa can drive you with his horses, like he did that day." "Ah, Jay, that would be nice indeed, only I'm afraid Gabby and the two cousins wouldn't agree to it." "I'd make 'em," said Jay. "Papa's going to buy me a little pistol, and I'd shoot 'em if they didn't." In such happy confidences the minutes slipped away. Presently the voice of Flora called Jay from the hall, and, recalled to civility, Missy took him by the hand and went back. She found them all standing up, preparing to take leave. "I am sorry to hurry you, Jay, but we must go." "Won't you please leave Jay to spend the afternoon with me?" asked Missy. "I will send him safely back at whatever hour you say." "That would be very pleasant," said Mrs. Eustace, "but Mr. Andrews is going to take us for a drive, and charged us to be back at four o'clock, to go with him. He has been hurrying all the morning to get through with everything, so that he might be at liberty to take this drive, which is a sort of farewell to Yellowcoats. He seemed to want to have the children go, though I am afraid we shall be rather late getting back for them. We take the early train in the morning, but I believe everything is in readiness for the start. You may imagine I have had my hands full, Mrs. Varian." Mrs. Varian expressed her sympathy, the good-byes were said, Missy held Jay tight in her arms, and kissed his little hands when she loosened them from her own, and watched the group from the piazza as they walked away. Then he was not coming this afternoon. He preferred a drive with these ladies, to coming here. No, she did not believe it was any pleasure to him to go with them. He had his own reasons. She would rest upon the belief that he would come in the evening. The afternoon was fine and clear, with a touch of autumn in the air. She longed to be alone and to be free--so, telling no one of her intention, she wandered away along the beach and was gone till after six o'clock. The short day was ended and dusk had already fallen. She was little tired by her long walk, but soothed by the solitude, and braced by the thought of what evening would surely bring her.