"To Milby, Uncle Jacob—I mean Mr. Weightman," said Rhoda, correcting herself—"to Milby, to school; only I am going to make a visit at 'The Home' first, and perhaps to board there if they will take me." The old man laughed. "Of course they will take you," said he, "no doubt of that at all. And so you are going to school, eh? That's a very good idea of your mother's. I hope you will learn all you can. And, pray, is this fine new Saratoga trunk yours too?" "Yes, sir; papa sent to Hobarttown for it by Mr. Antis." "And it is full of new clothes, eh? Well, take good care of them. School-girls spoil their clothes very fast sometimes." "You had better go into the waiting-room and sit down, Rhoda," said Mr. Bowers, who had appeared unaccountably uneasy during this conference. "It is beginning to rain a little." Rhoda took a seat in the waiting-room, expecting her father would stay with her, instead of which, to her disappointment, he went outside, and walked up and down the platform in earnest conversation with Uncle Jacob. "Just like him to go and spoil the last time I shall have!" thought Rhoda. "I do hope he won't go to town with us." The two passed the window, and she heard her father say,— "It was the least we could do to make everything as easy as possible." "Nonsense!" was Mr. Weightman's answer. "All useless expense—money thrown away. Let her begin as she is to go on, and learn to depend on herself." "I sha'n't depend on you, you old bear," thought Rhoda. "I dare say he is trying to persuade papa not to let me go to school, after all. I do wish papa would let him alone and not get mixed up in business with him. I know he doesn't do him any good. He just puts him up to think that nothing is of any consequence but making money and getting rich." "Here comes the train, Rhoda," said her father, putting his head in at the door. "Come, hurry!" "Uncle Jacob is not going, is he?" asked Rhoda, in a tone which was louder than prudent. Mr. Weightman heard her, and answered for himself: "Oh no, 'Uncle Jacob' isn't going. You won't be plagued with 'Uncle Jacob' again for a good long time, if ever. So you can afford to part friends." Rhoda coloured, and then took a sudden resolution. "Good-bye, Mr. Weightman," said she, holding out her hand to him. "I am sorry if I have ever been rude to you, and I hope you will forgive me. I am sure I had much rather be friends with you than not, for I never did you any injury, and I don't believe you ever meant to do me any." There was no time for Mr. Weightman to answer, if he had been so disposed, for the train came up in a moment, and Rhoda and her father were hurried on board. The cars were delayed a few minutes, and to Rhoda's great, surprise, as she looked out of the window, Mr. Weightman came round and spoke to her. "Here, child—here is some pocket-money for you," said he, putting a five-dollar bill into her hand. "Take good care of it. Money soon goes when once you change a bill."