GOING HOME.
"IT'S nearly a year, now, since I was home," said Lucy Gray to her husband, "and so you must let me go for a few weeks."
They had been married some four or five years, and never had been separated, during that time, for twenty-four hours at a time.
"I thought you called this your home," remarked Gray, looking up, with a mock-serious air.
"I mean my old home," replied Lucy, in a half-affected tone of anger. "Or, to make it plain, I want to go and see father and mother."
"Can't you wait three or four months, until I can go with you?" asked the young husband.
"I want to go now. You said all along that I should go in May."
"I know I did. But I thought I would be able to go with you."
"Well, why can't you go? I am sure you might, if you would."