"Going out?" said Hope sleepily; then opening her eyes, "Why, Nellie, you look sad, dear; what is it?" "I can't explain," she answered hurriedly; "mamma is ill, and I am going home." Hope took her hand, but beyond an exclamation of dismay, knew not what to say. "I could not bear to go without thanking you for all your kindness; but I'm afraid I have disturbed you." "Not at all; but, Nellie, don't you mention kindness, for you know it has been all on your side. I shall never forget you." Nellie kissed her, and was already at the door, when suddenly she came to the bedside again, and said hesitatingly, "Could you spare me one or two of these wild rosebuds to take home?" "Certainly; but take some nice flowers out of the garden, Nellie. Pick some before you go; these are worth nothing to those." "I would like these best," she said, "as a remembrance of yesterday." She placed two or three in her little travelling-basket, and with one more good-bye, hurriedly left the room. Mrs. Arundel and Aunt Ruth stood waiting for her in the drawing room, and she was clasped in her grandmamma's arms. "My dear child," she said, "my dear child, I have enjoyed having you; we shall think of you, and pray for you constantly. Good-bye." "I can't half thank you," said Nellie, brokenly; "but I have had such a nice time. Dear Aunt Ruth, I wanted to say lots of things to you." "Yes, darling; but we must bow to our Father's will." So she left them, and as she hastened down the hill to Mrs. Elliot's, she felt as if all the springs of her life were dried up. She turned in at the gate, and almost ran against Maude and Wilmot, who were coming out to take her to the station. They needed no explanations, as they already knew the bad news that morning's post had brought. Wilmot silently shook hands, and Maude kissed her warmly. "It is a sad good-bye," said Nellie, trying to speak calmly, as she met Mrs. Elliot, "and you must forgive me for not saying all I would wish; but I do thank you all for—for making me so welcome." Mrs. Elliot assured her it had given them much pleasure to know her; and then Nellie went over to the sofa where Alice lay, looking pale and suffering. "Is it very bad?" she asked kindly. "Oh, I feel so wretched, Miss Arundel." "Poor child, I know you must; but," she whispered, "be patient; it helps us to think that Jesus knows all our sorrows and sufferings, doesn't it?" "Even my bad foot?" asked Alice, looking up. "Even that. Don't forget, dear." Alice nodded, and in another moment the carriage was there, and Nellie was gone. The three driving together did not say many words. Their thoughts would have been hard to interpret. When they were walking up and down the station waiting for the train, Wilmot said to Nellie: "I should like to think this is not a parting, Miss Arundel. May I, do you think, come and call upon you when I return to town?"