“So long, Miss Lochinvar. I wish I were going with you,” said Sydney, clasping both Jan’s hands tight with sixteen-year-old sensitiveness to kissing his cousin publicly.
But Jan threw both arms around his neck, and kissed him many times, quite speechless with emotion, and Sydney did not find it unpleasant to have her love for him thus proved.
Jack gave Jan a fierce farewell hug, which she warmly returned.
Viva and Jerry were hanging on Jan’s neck as the others bade her good-by, and Mr. Graham had to detach them violently and bear them away under the inducement of waving their hands to her through the window.
Gladys kissed Jan good-by, sobbing with all her might. “Please, please forgive me all over again, dear, dearest Jan,” she whispered.
Gwen came last of all, and to her Jan clung most fondly, realizing then that of all the cousins she was leaving, this one was the dearest.
“I’m glad I had you, Miss Lochinvar,” whispered Gwen, feeling that this name was the only one with which she could part from Jan.
Jan did not speak, but the kiss with which she said good-by to noble-hearted Gwen told her how much Miss Lochinvar loved her.
The Grahams drew up in line outside the window, wiping away tears with one hand as they waved the other, and made futile efforts to speak to Jan through the double glass.
At last the wheels moved, the train got into motion, and rolled slowly out of the station.