_Miss R_. I thought as much. A pretty hour for us to be turned out of house and home to be sure. Not a wink have I slept this blessed night. Hark! What o'clock is that? George, George! where is that boy? Just run and tell your mother, Annie, just tell her, my dear, will you, that we shall all be murdered. Maybe she will make haste a little. Well, are they in? _Ser't_. The pictures? They are in,--yes'm. But Miss Kitty's a crying, and says as how she won't go, and there's the other one too; because, Ma'am, their toes--you see there's the trunk in front gives 'em a leetle slope inward, and then that chest under the seat--If you would just step down and see yourself, Ma'am. _Miss R_. I desire to be patient. [_They go out_. (_Annie sits on the bench of the little Porch, weeping. Mrs. Gray enters from within_.) _Annie_. Shall I never walk down that shady path again? Shall I enter those dear rooms no more? There are voices there they cannot hear. From the life of buried years, ten thousand scenes, all vacancy toother eyes, enrich those walls for us; the furniture that money cannot buy, that only the joy and grief of years can purchase. They will spoil our pleasant home,--will they not, mother? _Mrs. G_. Pleasant, ay, pleasant indeed, has it been to us. God's will be done. Do not weep, Annie. We have counted the cost;--many a safe and happy home there will be in the days to come, whose light shall spring from this forgotten sorrow. God's will be done. _Annie_. Mother, they are all ready now; is Helen in her room still? _Mrs. G_. Go call her, Annie. Hours ago it was I sent her there. I thought she might get some little sleep ere the summons came. Call her, my child. How deadly pale she was! [_Annie goes in_. * * * * * DIALOGUE III. SCENE. _A Chamber partly darkened, the morning air steals faintly through the half-open shutters. Helen before the mirror, leaning upon the toilette, her face buried in her hands, her long hair unbound, and flowing on her shoulders_. (_Annie enters_.) _Annie_. Helen! Why, Helen, are you asleep there? Come, we are going now. After keeping us on tiptoe for hours, the summons has come at last. Indeed, there is hardly time for you to dress. Shall I help you? _Helen_. (_Rising slowly_.) God help me. Bid my mother come here, Annie. _Annie_. What ails you, Helen?--there is no time,--you do not understand me,--there is not one moment to be lost. Let me wind up this hair for you. _Helen_. Let go!--Oh God---- _Annie_. Helen Grey! _Helen_. It was a dream,--it was but a foolish dream. It must not be thought of now,--it will never do. Bid my mother come here, I am ready now. _Annie_. Ready, Helen!--ready?--in that dressing-gown, and your hair--see here,--are you ready, Helen?