Primrose caught at Madam Wetherill's gown. Her eyes were lustrous with tears that now brimmed over, and her slight figure all a-tremble.
"Oh, take me back with you; take me back!" she cried with sudden passion. "I cannot like it here, I cannot!"
"Child, it is only for a little while. Remember. Be brave. One's word must always be kept."
"Oh, I cannot!" The small body was in a quiver of anguish, pitiful to see.
Bessy Wardour had loved, too, and then gone away to the man of her choice, if not the life of her choice. But she was much moved by the passionate entreaty, and stooped to kiss her, then put her away, saying, "It must be, my child. But thou wilt come back to us."
CHAPTER VIII.
A LITTLE REBEL.
As the carriage-wheels rolled away Primrose burst into a violent paroxysm of weeping. Rachel came forward and took her hand, but it was jerked away rudely.