"Poor chile, poor chile! she takes it mighty hard," said innocent
Hannibal.
She kept her room during the afternoon, pleading that she did not feel well. It gave her pain to be with her mother and Laura, now that she purposed to leave them so abruptly, and she wished to see nothing that would shake her resolution to go as she had arranged. She wrote to Edith as follows:
"I am going, Edith, to meet Mr. Van Dam, as he told me. I cannot—I will not believe that he will prove false to me. I leave his letter, which I received to-day. Perhaps you never will forgive me at home; but whatever becomes of poor little Zell, she will not cease to love you all. I should only be a burden if I stayed. There will be one less to provide for, and I may be able to help you far more by going than staying. Don't follow me. I've made my venture, and chosen my lot. ZELL."
As the long twilight was deepening, Hannibal, returning from the well with a pail of water, heard the gate-latch click, and, looking up, saw Zell hurrying out with hat and shawl on, and having the appearance of carrying something under her shawl. He felt a little surprise at first, but then, Zell was so full of impulse, that he concluded:
"She's gwine to meet Miss Edie. We'se all a-lookin' and leanin' on
Miss Edie, Lor bres her."
But Zell was going to perdition.
Little later the stage brought tired Edith home, but in better spirits than before, as she had realized a somewhat fair sum for what she had sold, and had been treated politely.
After taking off her things, she asked, "Where's Zell?"
"Lying down, I think," said Laura. "She complained of not feeling well this afternoon."
But Hannibal's anxious face in the door now caught her attention, and she joined him at once.