erva from top to
bottom, while two great tears rolled down the cheeks grown wan with
hope deferred.

"Tell him I believe all things, hope all things, and that I never can
forget."

Nan went to her and held her fast, leaving the prints of two loving,
but grimy hands upon her shoulders; Di looked on approvingly, for,
though rather stony-hearted regarding the cause, she fully appreciated
the effect; and John, turning to the window, received the
commendations of a robin swaying on an elm-bough with sunshine on its
ruddy breast.

The clock struck five, and John declared that he must go; for, being
an old-fashioned soul, he fancied that his mother had a better right
to his last hour than any younger woman in the land,--always
remembering that "she was a widow, and he her only son."

Nan ran away to wash her hands, and came back with the appearance of
one who had washed her face also: and so she had; but there was a
difference in the water.

"Play I'm your father, girls, and remember it will be six months
before 'that John' will trouble you again."

With which preface the young man kissed his former playfellows as
heartily as the boy had been wont to do, when stern parents banished
him to distant schools, and three little maids bemoaned his fate. But
times were changed now; for Di grew alarmingly rigid during the
ceremony; Laura received the salute like a grateful queen; and Nan
returned it with heart and eyes and tender lips, making such an
improvement on the childish fashion of the thing, that John was moved
to support his paternal character by softly echoing her father's
words,--"Take care of yourself, my little 'Martha.'"

Then they all streamed after him along the garden-path, with the
endless messages and warnings girls are so prone to give; and the
young man, with a great softness at his heart, went away, as many
another John has gone, feeling better for the companionship of
innocent maidenhood, and stronger to wrestle with temptation, to wait
and hope and work.

"Let's throw a shoe after him for luck, as dear old 'Mrs. Gummage' did
after 'David' and the 'willin' Barkis!' Quick, Nan! you always have
old shoes on; toss one, and shout, 'Good luck!'" cried Di, with one of
her eccentric inspirations.

Nan tore off her shoe, and threw it far along the dusty road, with a
sudden longing to become that auspicious article of apparel, that the
omen might not fail.

Looking backward from the hill-top, John answered