As for Lettice, she was fairly dissolved in tears--clinging to every one in turn--and sobbing out despairing farewells. "Oh, Norie, Norie! my heart will break! I shall die; I know I shall. I can never bear it. Oh, Mouse, don't forget me! Don't let her forget me! Oh, do write-- everyone write! I shall _live_ on the letters from home!" The last glimpse was of a tear-stained face, and a handkerchief held aloft in such a drenched condition that it refused to open to the breeze, and when the carriage turned the corner Miss Briggs shuffled off to the schoolroom, Hilary ran off to her room upstairs, leaving the three young people in the porch staring at each other with a miserable realisation of loss. "What shall I do?--what shall I do? She said _her_ heart would be broken, but it is ten times worse for me! The house will seem so dreadfully bare and lonely!" "Just when we were all so happy! Oh, that hateful Miss Carr! why did she ever come? I thought we were going to have such a h-appy summer," sobbed Edna dolefully. "It's always the way! As soon as I make friends, I am bound to lose them." Rex put his hands into his pockets and began to whistle. "It will do no good to turn yourselves into a couple of fountains! I'll go for a walk, and come back when you've done crying. It's a nuisance, but it might have been worse," he said shortly, and Norah looked at him with a gleam of curiosity lighting up her poor, tear-stained eyes. "How worse? What do you mean?" she inquired; but Rex did not deign to answer, or to have anything more to say until tea was served a couple of hours later. The tears to which he so much objected were dried by this time, but the conversation was still sorrowfully centred on the dear traveller. "What is she doing now? Poor, poor Lettice! she will cry herself ill. Every mile further from home will make her more wretched!" cried Norah, and the listeners groaned in sympathy. If they had seen Miss Lettice at that moment, however, their fears would have been allayed. Miss Carr had changed into a corridor train at Preston, and her companion was charmed with the novel position. She had never before travelled in a corridor, and the large, open carriage, the view, the promenade up and down, were all fascinating to her inexperience. Then to have lunch, and afternoon tea just when the journey was beginning to drag--it was indeed a luxurious way of travelling! Lettice had ceased to cry before the train had reached Kendal; at Lancaster she began to smile; at Crewe she laughed so merrily at one of Miss Carr's sallies, that the people on the next seat turned to look at her with smiles of admiring interest. Everyone was "so nice and kind." It was a pleasure to see them. Clearwater was a dear, sweet place, but, after all, it was only a poky little village. Delightful to get away and see something of the world! CHAPTER SIXTEEN. AFTER THREE YEARS.