“You!” Her brother sprang up excitedly. “Tally, I won’t hear to it!”

“Yes, you will. Sit down, Mart, you’d do the same thing if you were in my place, you know you would. I’m not going to be selfish. Gincy’s never had any chance and I’ve had a whole year here. Maybe I can come back again some time, but if I knew I couldn’t I should go just the same.”

“But you can’t go home alone,” Martin objected.

“Yes, I can. I’ll take the train to the Gap and I’m not afraid to walk the rest of the way.”

“Well, Tally, I suppose you’re right,” her brother said at last, “but it’ll take the sunshine out of the whole year for me, to know that you’re missing all this. And I’d counted so on the good times we’d have together.”

“Now, Mart, don’t you worry about me one minute. I reckon it’s all for the best. Maybe there’s something special in the mountains for me to do; I’m going to try to think so anyway.”

“What reason are you going to give the folks for going home?”

“I’m going to tell them the truth that there wasn’t room for so many girls. I shan’t say a word about Gincy only that she’s well and having a fine time.”

That afternoon while Gincy was out of the room, Talitha removed the tiny wardrobe she had brought, to make room for Urilla’s. Long before light the next morning, while Gincy slept soundly, all unaware of her friend’s sacrifice, Talitha boarded the train which could only take her so short a distance toward home. She sank into a seat timidly. She had never travelled alone before, and when she reached the Gap the loneliest part was yet to come.

As the train pulled out she tried to wave a cheerful good-bye to Martin, who stood disconsolately outside in the darkness. The coach was full of people who had evidently travelled all night, for they were in all sorts of positions trying to get a little sleep. Talitha’s eyes were sleepless, although she had hardly closed them that night. It was disagreeably warm and stuffy. She longed to open the window, but the girl beside her was propped comfortably in the corner of the seat, oblivious to her surroundings.