"But Rhoda won’t," added Samson. "Rhoda don’t like you overmuch. For that matter, she don’t like anything but David and dogs. Me and Dick don’t set no store by Rhoda, do we, Dick?" "No," said Richard. "We do not." "I’ll come back--I’ll come back to watch over David," said Madge suddenly. "Yes, I won’t bide away altogether. I couldn’t. But not same as I am now--not a poor, broken-hearted, useless good-for-nothing, as have worn out her welcome in the world. I’ll be a shining, joyous thing then--winged like a lark, and so sweet a singer too." "You can sing very nice, and always could," said Dick graciously. "I’d sing to you boys now, but there’s no time. Be it night or morning with us? I’m sure I couldn’t say, for I’ve been up and about these days and days." "They’m looking for you, come to think of it," said Samson suddenly. "David was up over after dinner." "Was he kind or cross?" "Neither--but a good bit flurried seemingly." "He don’t know about the journey, you see. I’m afraid he’ll be sorry--after. He’ll be sorry, won’t he, Dicky?" "He’ll be terribly vexed without a doubt," declared Richard. "In fact, if I was you, I’d change your mind. You oughtn’t to do nothing without telling him--ought her, Samson?" "No, her oughtn’t," answered his brother. "You two--two at a birth," she said. "Got together and born together! ’Tis a very beautiful thing--a beautiful thing, sure enough. You’m one--not two at all--one in heart and thought and feeling, one in your little joys and fears and hopes. And even so I’d thought to be with David. But I wasn’t strong enough and understanding enough for that. He’s too much above me. And us had no childer, you see. There comed no babby to my bosom, and so--there ’tis--the usefulness and hope of me all gone--a withered, worn-out blossom as never set no fruit. And when the flower be fallen, ’tis all over and forgot. My mother knowed best, you see. She always feared it wouldn’t come to good. How right she was!" "What silly old rummage you do talk," said Richard. "Never heard the like! Why for don’t you go home? Didn’t Madge ought for to go home, Sam?" "Yes, she did," said Samson, "this instant. She’m mazed, I believe." "Pisgies been at her, I reckon," hazarded his brother.