"As a man sows, so shall he reap," replied Mrs. Rushmere. "The crop of trouble you have been sowing for yourself and me, Lawrence Rushmere, is likely to produce a plentiful harvest. You have made two young happy creatures, very miserable. May God forgive you, but I can't say amen to your doings. I have spoken my mind, however, upon the subject, and now we will say no more about it. Dolly, it is time that you were upon the road: the day is hot and the path dusty, and you have a long lonely walk before you."
Dorothy cleared off the table, and went to her own room to pack up her clothes, and prepare for her journey. There was no finery in her wardrobe, a few neat cotton gowns for summer wear, and homespun for the winter—that was all.
She felt very sorrowful as she smoothed the homely garments, and placed them in a small leathern trunk. "Oh," she thought, "shall I ever be happy again?" and she wished, though she felt it to be a sin, that she had died with her poor forlorn mother on the heath. Before her little preparations were completed, she was joined by Mrs. Rushmere.
"Don't cumber yourself, Dolly, with that big trunk. You look tired now—that heavy luggage will break you down altogether. Put a few necessaries into a bundle, just for present use. You will not be away long, take my word for it. I will send the cow-boy over with the trunk, should I prove a false prophet. Father is coming round. He seems restless and uneasy like. He feels that he has been too hasty, but like most of the men folk, is too proud to own it. I should not wonder, before the end of the week, that he goes to fetch you back himself."
"I am proud too, mother. Perhaps I may refuse to come."
Mrs. Rushmere looked at her in surprise.
"Dorothy, don't say that."
The glance of the hitherto meek girl filled her with wonder.
"Yes, dear mother, and I mean it too. The trodden worm, I have heard, will turn again—and my heart has been trodden into the dust. Our first parents never returned to Eden after they had been driven out."
"Lauk-a-mercy, child, you don't mean to compare yourself with them, or call this poor place Paradise? They would have been glad to come back, had God seen fit to recall them."