"Here I am!" she said, "Did you expect to see me? Did you think I should come to say good-bye?"
"How should I?" answered Amy, "I never knew you were going to-day, and I am sorry to see you cloaked for your journey."
"And so am I; but Tom would not rest quiet without me any longer, so dear, I must go; the pony chaise will be round directly, and yet I should have liked to have sat with you for an hour or so before leaving."
"Then why did you put off coming to see me until the last moment, Anne?"
"I did not know I was going until half an hour ago. How is that wretched Frances? Will you say I had not time to stay and see her; I should so hate—although, mind, I pity her with all my heart,—giving her a sisterly embrace."
"But," said Amy, "What occasion is there for such a warm farewell?"
"Ah! thereby hangs a tale. The fact is I don't wish to see Frances Strickland."
"Poor girl! She has suffered so much."
"I wonder you can find it in your heart to pity her; but you were always an angel of goodness."
"You are wrong, Anne," sighed Amy, "and I think you should go and see Miss Strickland."