She would be a belle like her sister, though of a different stamp, he thought, as he again bent down his head while she removed the apron and disclosed more than one big spot upon his broadcloth. Mark assured her that it did not matter; his coat was nearly worn out, and any way he never should regret that he had _churned_ once in his life, or forget it either; and then he asked if Helen would be in New York the coming winter, talking of the pleasure it would be to meet her there, until Helen began to feel what she never before had felt, a desire to visit Katy in her own home. “Remember if you come that I am your debtor for numerous hospitalities,” he said, when he at last bade her good-bye and sprang into the covered buggy, which Uncle Ephraim had brought out in honor of Katy’s arrival. * * * * * Old Whitey was hitched at a safe distance from all possible harm. Uncle Ephraim had returned from the store near by, laden with the six pounds of crush sugar and the two pounds of real old Java he had been commissioned to purchase with a view to Katy’s taste, and now upon the platform at West Silverton his stood, with Mark Ray, waiting for the arrival of the train just appearing in view across the level plain. “It’s fifteen months since she went away,” he said, and Mark saw that the old man’s form trembled with the excitement of meeting her again, while his eyes scanned eagerly every window and door of the cars now slowly stopping before him. “There, there!” and he laid his hand nervously on Mark’s shoulder, as a white, jaunty feather appeared in view; but that was not Katy, and the dim eyes ran again along the whole line of the cars, from which so many were alighting. But Katy did not come, and with a long breath of wonder and disappointment the deacon said: “Can it be she is asleep? Young man, you are spryer than I. Go through the cars and find her.” Mark knew there was plenty of time, and so he made the tour of the cars, but found, alas, no Katy. “She’s not there,” was the report carried to the poor old man, who tremblingly repeated the words: “Not there, not come!” while over his aged face there broke a look of touching sadness, which Mark never forgot, remembering it always just as he remembered the big tear drops which from his seat by the window he saw the old man wipe away with his coat-sleeve, as whispering softly to Whitey of his disappointment he unhitched the horse and drove away alone.