In the morning Sarah found, fortunately, no time for regret or grief. She had said good-by to the twins and Albert the night before, and though they had loudly insisted that they would be up in time to see her off, they did not wake and were not called. The three older members of the household had breakfast together, then the new trunk was lifted to the back of the spring-wagon, and Sarah, in her new sailor suit and blue hat, climbed to her place between William and Laura for the drive to the station.
Her heart beat so rapidly that she could not speak. She looked back at the broad, low-lying house, shadowed by a great hickory tree; at the friendly barn, which had been a playground for them all; and then at the winding, twisting stream, which made their land so fertile. Was it possible that a few days ago she had wished to go away?
Up at Uncle Daniel's house, the family was already astir. Jacob Kalb crossed the barn-yard, milk-pail in hand, disdaining to look back, though he must have heard plainly the sound of the spring-wagon.
"He will go in and peek out," laughed Sarah. "Jacob, he wouldn't miss nothing."
"'Jacob wouldn't miss anything' is what you mean, isn't it, Sarah?" asked her sister-in-law.
"Ach, yes!" cried Sarah penitently. "But what is coming?"
She grew pale. Down from the Swartz house hurried Aunt 'Liza. "She can't stop me!" said Sarah, gasping.
William laughed. "No, indeed."
Aunt 'Liza came to the side of the wagon. She had never approved of Uncle Daniel's methods.
"Here is something for Sarah," she said. "I thought while she was going off I would make her a little cake, once, and a little apple schnitz. She liked always apple schnitz."