Six months had passed; St. John's leave-taking had soon taken place, after the conversation just recorded. It had been a time of great suffering to all; even Missy had found it harder than she had imagined. Miss Varian had taken it very much to heart, and in her violence Missy had become calm. Her natural place was, of course, in opposition to this member of the family. It seemed improper for her to be fighting in the ranks beside her aunt. This, and her great pain in parting from her brother, hushed her outward opposition. She felt she was, at least, justified in supporting him in the eyes of his deserted parish--and thus, Yellowcoats believed always that Missy had been the chief instrument in depriving them of his services; so correct is popular information. Her mother, Missy did not understand. The actual moment of parting was as full of agony as she had anticipated; for an hour after, there really seemed a doubt to others than Missy, whether the poor mother would ever come out of the swoon which had followed the last sound of the carriage wheels outside. But when, after a day or two, the physical effects of the emotion passed away, Mrs. Varian seemed to grow content and quiet; a deeper peace than before filled her eyes. The yearning, pining weariness which Missy had anticipated, did not come. She seemed to heed neither companionship nor solitude; her solitude seemed peopled with angelic company; while her face welcomed all who came near her, far from angelic as they might be. Her health seemed stronger. It was all a mystery to her daughter. "Mamma seems better than for years, this winter," she was obliged to say, when asked about her mother's health. She did not talk much about St. John, even with Missy, but when she did talk of him, it was with simplicity and naturalness. His letters never threw her into depression, nor was she deeply anxious when they did not come. She always gave the letters to Missy to read, which had not been the case before. They were short, affectionate, plain as to fact, expressing nothing of inward emotion. Missy felt sure that this was understood between them, and that the outpouring of heart which had been so dear to both, was part of the sacrifice. The new clergyman came, and parish matters in their new light had to be talked over. This was acute pain to Missy, to whom it seemed St. John's work alone. It seemed to give no pain to her mother, and her interest in affairs connected with the village church was unabated. The only thing that seemed to pain her, was the adverse criticism upon the step her son had taken, which Miss Varian took pains should come to her ears. People opened their minds on the matter to _her_, knowing she was strongly opposed to it, and she felt it to be her one source of consolation, to repeat these confidences to her sister-in-law.