Lottie came up to her and knelt in her old way.
"Let me go, Miss Jessie, and don't try to stop me, for it'll be of no use, only to make my heart ache worse than it does now. Don't be afraid about me! If God shows the birds their way through the woods, He won't let me get lost."
"Poor Lottie!" said the young mistress, looking kindly on the girl through her tears, "I would rather give up anything than you."
Lottie seized her hand, pressing her lips upon it.
"Don't, don't!" she pleaded. "You would not say a word if you only—"
"Only what, girl?"
"Nothing, nothing. I must go, that is the long and the short of it."
Lottie shook off her tears as a dog scatters the rain from his coat, and, starting up, assumed her rude manner.
"I will not keep you against your will, my poor girl," said Jessie, sadly; "but how can you find the way?"
"Easy enough, Miss. I've been studying geography and the maps, these last three months, besides reading about everything."