When the holidays were over, General Lyon took his grand-daughter back to school; Mr. Alexander returned to college; and the house was emptied of its visitors.
In taking leave of his pet, Mr. Alick had said:
“And now, Drusilla, when I am gone you must be my mother’s little girl, do you hear?”
“Oh, how I wish I might! Oh, how I do wish I might!” said the child, weeping and clinging to her friend.
“Mother, when I am gone, you’ll be good to the poor little thing, if only for my sake, won’t you?” he inquired, as a feeling of real pity moved his heart.
“Indeed I will, Alick,” earnestly replied the old lady.
“And you will not let old Bishop Sterling keep her mewed up in that horrid room all the time?”
“Not if I can prevent it, Alick.”
With this promise Mr. Alick departed.
And little Drusilla clung to the old lady’s skirts, and wept as if her heart would break.