ed an old black satchel from
beneath a pile of toys, and began dusting it inside with a towel. Then
she took out some underclothes from a bureau drawer and a few toilet
articles, which she wrapped in pieces of tissue paper. Her movements
were so methodical that the nervousness in Mrs. Pendleton's mind slowly
gave way to astonishment. For the first time in her life, perhaps, the
mother realized that her daughter was no longer a child, but a woman,
and a woman whose character was as strong and as determined as her own.
Vaguely she understood, without analyzing the motives that moved
Virginia, that this strength and this determination which so impressed
her had arisen from those deep places in her daughter's soul where
emotion and not thought had its source. Love was guiding her now as
surely as it had guided her when she had refused to go with Oliver to
New York, or when, but a few minutes ago, she had knelt down to wash and
bandage Harry's little earth-stained feet. It was the only power to
which she would ever surrender. No other principle would ever direct or
control her.

Marthy, who appeared with Jenny's supper, was sent out to order the
carriage and to bear a message to the rector, and Virginia took the
little girl in her lap and began to crumble the bread into the bowl of
milk.

"Wouldn't you like me to do that, dear?" asked Mrs. Pendleton, with a
submission in her tone which she had never used before except to the
rector. "Don't you want to fix your hair over?"

"Oh, no, I'll keep on my hat till I go to bed, so it doesn't matter. I'd
rather you'd finish my packing if you don't mind. There's nothing more
to go in except some collars and my bedroom slippers and that red
wrapper hanging behind the door in the closet."

"Are you going to take any medicine?"

"Only that bottle of camphor and some mustard plasters. Yes, you'd
better put in the brandy flask and the aromatic ammonia. You can never
tell when you will need them. Now, my darlings, mother is going away and
you must keep well and be as good as gold until she comes back."

To the amazement of Mrs. Pendleton (who reflected that you really never
knew what to expect of children), this appeal produced an immediate and
extraordinary result. Lucy, who had been fidgeting about and trying to
help with the packing, became suddenly solemn and dignified, while an
ennobling excitement mounted to Harry's face. Never particularly
obedient before, they became, as soon