"How can one be 'separate' always, grandma, in the midst of other people?"
"Take care that you keep nearest to God. Walk with him; and you'll be pretty sure to be separate from the most o' folks."
There was no more said. Lois presently closed the book and laid it away, and the two sat in silence awhile. I will not affirm that Lois did not feel something of a stricture round her, since she had given that promise so clearly. Truly the promise altered nothing, it only made things somewhat more tangible; and there floated now and then past Lois's mental vision an image of a handsome head, crowned with graceful locks of luxuriant light brown hair, and a face of winning pleasantness, and eyes that looked eagerly into her eyes. It came up now before her, this vision, with a certain sense of something lost. Not that she had ever reckoned that image as a thing won; as belonging, or ever possibly to belong, to herself; for Lois never had such a thought for a moment. All the same came now the vision before her with the commentary,—'You never can have it. That acquain'tance, and that friendship, and that intercourse, is a thing of the past; and whatever for another it might have led to, it could lead to nothing for you.' It was not a defined thought; rather a floating semi-consciousness; and Lois presently rose up and went from thought to action.
CHAPTER IX.
THE FAMILY.
The spring day was fading into the dusk of evening, when feet and voices heard outside announced that the travellers were returning. And in they came, bringing a breeze of business and a number of tied-up parcels with them into the quiet house.
"The table ready! how good! and the fire. O, it's Lois! Lois is here!"—and then there were warm embraces, and then the old grandmother was kissed. There were two girls, one tall, the other very tall.
"I'm tired to death!" said the former of these. "Charity would do no end of work; you know she is a steam-engine, and she had the steam up to-day, I can tell you. There's no saying how good supper will be; for our lunch wasn't much, and not good at that; and there's something good here, I can tell by my nose. Did you take care of the milk, Lois? you couldn't know where to set it."
"There is no bread, Lois. I suppose you found out?" the other sister said.
"O, she's made biscuits!" said Madge. "Aren't you a brick, though,
Lois! I was expecting we'd have everything to do; and it's all done.
Ain't that what you call comfortable? Is the tea made? I'll be ready in
a minute."