“That’s him,—that’s John,” and Susan’s voice faltered as she pointed him out to the widow, whose heart gave one great spasm of pain as she saw him, and then grew suddenly still with wrath and indignation; for alas, her Isaac, who was to have gone with Charlie Warner, son of Rockland’s Judge, was marching with _William Baker_,—_Bill_,—who had been to the workhouse twice, to say nothing of the times he had stolen her rare-ripes and early melons! She had not looked for anything like this, and could scarcely believe her senses. Yet there they were, right before her eyes, Isaac and Bill, the former hoping his mother would not see him, and the latter trying not to see his mother, who was quite as much delighted to see him with Isaac Simms as the widow would have been had Isaac been with Charlie Warner, just in front. Mrs. Baker had followed her sons to the hall, had heard the reasons for the captain’s decision, and she called out in a loud, exultant tone, “Miss Simms! Miss Simms do you see your Ike with Billy? Cap’n Johnson would have put him with Charlie Warner if he hadn’t fell short two inches. Look kinder nice together, don’t they? only Ike stoops a trifle, ’pears to me.” It didn’t “’pear” so to Widow Simms, but then her eyes wore blurred so that she could not see distinctly, for, strange to say, the sharpest pang of all was the knowing that Isaac, so pure, so gentle, so girl-like, must be a companion for reckless, swearing, gambling Bill, and for a time she could not quite forgive her youngest born that he had not been just two inches taller. Blind, ignorant Widow Simms, the hour will come when, on her bended knees, she’ll thank the over-ruling hand which kept her boy from growing _just two inches taller_! Onward, still onward they moved, until they turned the corner and paused before the depot.