But on the drive home, the cheerfulness she had assumed in Anna's presence left her; she realized that it was but a few months since they had really known of their loss, and already Anna had formed new ties and interests, and these far removed from anything that had fallen within their past experiences. India—it vaguely suggested the ends of the earth, but beyond this it was only a sound, it carried no meaning. It was found that Anna's affairs and their adjustment, presented certain difficulties which necessitated the calling in of the patient Benson. By the terms of her husband's will, she was, in the event of her second marriage, to take one third of his estate and the house in town, the remainder going to little Stephen. Virginia consented to the expedient of mortgaging the mill. It was in vain that Benson expostulated; pointing out the manifest unfairness of such a course; but a very satisfactory condition resulted from the buying out of Anna's interest; he was relieved of her, and now he could administer Virginia's means to the best possible advantage. He would like to have known just what Virginia thought about Anna's marriage, but he never ventured to ask; and he fancied he detected in her manner a certain reserve whenever it was under discussion. Benson also found a purchaser for Anna's house in town, and she overcame her dislike for the country sufficiently to go out to the farm with little Stephen, where she remained until her marriage, which occurred late in the summer following Benson's return from the west. To the very last she was sustained by her love of excitement; but when Benson, and Dr. Stillman, and Dr. Stillman's brother, who had performed the ceremony, had withdrawn to the library where they spent a gloomy half hour in waiting for Sam West to drive up to the door; and she and Virginia with Jane had gone up-stairs to finish packing her trunks; her gaiety quite left her; she appreciated for the first time the radical nature of the change that was before her; and she clung to Virginia with many endearments, weeping softly. “I may never come back, Virginia; and if I don't, you will be a mother to my boy?” “He is more to me than any one else in the world, now that you are going away, dear,” said Virginia gently. She had forgotten all of Anna's selfishness, her general unfairness, and the fact that she had not disdained to drive an exceedingly close bargain in the division of the estate; the latter, a point that the exasperated Benson could not get over and which he had kept before her with some insistence. These were the contradictory elements in human nature she felt; and her only emotion now was one of generous pity. “Where is Stephen, Virginia?” “He is with Martha; shall Jane go for him?”