BARTON'S NIGHT-ERRAND.
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"Mournful is't to say Farewell, Though for few brief hours we part; In that absence, who can tell What may come to wring the heart!" Anonymous. |
The events recorded in the last chapter took place on a Tuesday. On Thursday afternoon Mary was surprised, in the midst of some little bustle in which she was engaged, by the entrance of Will Wilson. He looked strange, at least it was strange to see any different expression on his face to his usual joyous beaming appearance. He had a paper parcel in his hand. He came in, and sat down, more quietly than usual.
"Why, Will! what's the matter with you? You seem quite cut up about something!"
"And I am, Mary! I'm come to say good-bye; and few folk like to say good-bye to them they love."
"Good-bye! Bless me, Will, that's sudden, isn't it?"
Mary left off ironing, and came and stood near the fire-place. She had always liked Will; but now it seemed as if a sudden spring of sisterly love had gushed up in her heart, so sorry did she feel to hear of his approaching departure.
"It's very sudden, isn't it?" said she, repeating her question.
"Yes! it's very sudden," said he, dreamily. "No, it isn't;" rousing himself, to think of what he was saying. "The captain told me in a fortnight he would be ready to sail again; but it comes very sudden on me, I had got so fond of you all."
Mary understood the particular fondness that was thus generalised. She spoke again.