"I will hire the prettiest pony carriage I can find," returned Queenie, feeling now the value of riches. "You shall have everything you wish for, Emmie--books and toys, and all manner of good things--if only you will be happy with me and not fret." "Of course I shall be happy with you," exclaimed the child, throwing herself into her sister's arms. "What was it Ruth said? 'Whither thou goest I will go.' I always think of you when I read that. We have been playing at being poor, and now we must play at being rich. Oh, it will be such fun!" finished Emmie rather wearily, and Queenie kissed the heavy eyes and said no more. CHAPTER XIII. "WHY DOES HE NOT COME AND SEE US?" "'It is not hard to die,' She said, with that fair smile, 'for God's sweet will Makes bitter things most sweet. In my bright youth He calls me to His side. It is not hard To go to Him.'"--'_Ezekiel and other Poems._' Friends came around Queenie in her trouble. In her letter to Cathy she compared herself, somewhat quaintly, to Job when all his acquaintance comforted him. For after the first few hours of stupefied misery that followed her conversation with Dr. Stewart and Dora, her natural courage had returned; the pain was crushed resolutely into the background. Her every thought must be for Emmie; her one care to retrieve the effects of her unintentional neglect. The cottage all at once became the centre of interest to all the good Hepshaw folks. Captain Fawcett could scarcely bear the child out of his sight, and his wife's sorrow at the impending parting was a grievous thing to see; while Miss Cosie trotted in and out perpetually, on all manner of self-invented errands. And Langley came, saying little, but expressing a whole world of silent tenderness in her face and manner; and Faith Stewart, with her quiet, helpful ways, bringing an atmosphere of rest and peace to poor harassed Queenie. One day Mr. Chester came, but his visit was a sadly trying one. He wrung Queenie's hand for some moments without speaking, and for a long time he could not bring himself to mention the subject of her departure. "You were so good to me when my darling died. I wish I could do something to help you," he said huskily; "but then my poor Gertie is dying, and I cannot leave her for more than an hour or two," and the sympathy of this open-hearted man almost broke Queenie down. One afternoon she went to say good-bye to Miss Charity. Miss Charity looked up at her with her bright sharp eyes very keenly. "Ah, well, being a rich woman doesn't seem to suit you," she said, not unkindly. "You are not half as blithe and bonny-looking as when you first came to Hepshaw." "I am so anxious about Emmie," replied Queenie, hastily, for any comment on her changed looks made her uncomfortable. "You see, Emmie is all I have, Miss Charity."