CHAPTER VIII.
A LONG GOOD-BY
August flew by with its sultry air, and the grand house lay warm and quiet until supper time, no one venturing out until the heat of the day was past.
A disappointment it was to Sally that so little time was spent by the young people in the arbor, for it was not easy for her to see or hear them anywhere else.
Then came there a day in September when all the place was stirred as by some great and important event. Captain Rothwell was at the dock or on the deck giving swift orders, the sailors were hurrying to and fro, and the brave Belle Virgeen stood ready winged for sailing.
Sally a little while before had begged of Mistress Brace a piece of gray and white print, out of which, being exceeding deft with her needle, she had made for herself a neat gown.
Then the hired men had each agreed to pay her a few pence if every week she would darn their stockings. And the darns were indeed of surprising neatness for a little maid of but eleven years of age.
Sally could buy no stockings as yet with her earnings, but a cheap pair of shoes she already had bought, and on the sweet September day, away with the rest she went to see the Belle Virgeen set sail.
Very hard she strained her eyes to get a glimpse of her Fairy Prince, and her poor little heart was aching at thought of his crossing the great lonely ocean to remain nearly a year away.
"Oh, a year doth seem such a very long while," she murmured, "and although I should be ready to die of shame did any one know it, yet great comfort and company hath it been for me to dream and imagine about the Fairy Prince."
So much was there going on, and so great the bustle, that not much thought could fill her mind, and soon there came an extra stir, a carriage drove along the road, a lithe young form sprang out, and midst a cheer from the "hands" that crowded the landing, Lionel Grandison went up the gangplank.