"They are all in the drawing-room," replied Fay, wiping her eyes; and, leading the way into the house, she opened a door, and ushered Harry in.
Mrs. Grayling and three girls were sitting round the table sewing by the light of a shaded lamp.
"Here's Harry come to say good-bye," said Fay. "He sails early to-morrow from Southampton, and he must catch the boat-train to-night."
"So you are really going, Harry?" said Mrs. Grayling. "We shall miss you very much, and our poor little Fay here will be quite inconsolable. You are one of us now, you know."
"How long shall you be away, Harry?" inquired Mattie, the eldest daughter.
"Over a year, I believe," replied the young man.
"That is a long time for you and Fay to be separated," remarked Lettie, the second girl.
All this time, Margie, the third, said nothing. Her head was bent low over her work, and she did not even look up.
"Well, I must not stay," said Harry; "to lose that train would be to lose my berth, and I can't afford that. Good-bye, Mrs. Grayling; good-bye, dear girls." And he kissed them all affectionately, as though already they were his mother and sisters.
Margie was the last. As he put his hand on her shoulder, she raised her flushed face from her work, and he saw those great grey eyes of hers brimming over with tears, and the lips were quivering as he pressed his own upon them. Somehow or other, the sight of her grief surprised and touched him, and as he lingered a moment longer with her hand in his, he heard her whisper, "God bless you, dear, dear Harry!"