And she thought of the locked door upstairs.
Elizabeth went to her room. It was softly lighted, and it all looked so comfortable and quiet compared with the Brady apartment. How thankful she should be that she had not been born a Brady! Even Miss Rice was endurable after Mrs. Brady. If she could only stay here, and not go to Virginia!
But fate and the doctor and Miss Herrick were apparently inexorable, and day after day slipped by, bringing nearer that which was set for her departure. Her trunk was packed; it was off. She bade good-by to her aunts and to Julius Cæsar—she had begged to be allowed to take him with her, and had wept bitter tears over the refusal—and now the carriage was at the door. Miss Rice, on her way to her home in South Carolina, was to take Elizabeth to her destination.
"Good-by, Aunt Caroline," said the little girl, with streaming eyes. "Good-by, Aunt Rebecca. I am sorry I have not been a better child, but you don't know how hard it is sometimes. And you will send me word if my father comes home, won't you, Aunt Caroline? I still think he will come some day."
And then she ran down the steps, the carriage door was shut, and she was driven rapidly away.
"I feel as if I could not let her go," said Miss Herrick, as she stood in the window and stroked Julius Cæsar, who was quite aware that something out of the ordinary was happening. "If it were not that the doctor spoke so strongly, I should keep her now. It is very strange that she cannot be happy or well with us. I am afraid, Rebecca, that I am going to miss her sadly."
"You will soon grow accustomed to it, Caroline," returned her sister, calmly. "The child was a great care, for we never knew what she was going to do next—running away, investigating Mil—what she should not have done, up to all kinds of mischief."
"Do not allude to that, Rebecca, I beg of you," said Miss Herrick, with some agitation. "The child reminds me of her in certain ways. This taste for drawing that she has developed fills me with dread. I do not want her to be like her. I shall write to Helen Redmond, and tell her it must not be encouraged."
Just as Miss Herrick said this a telegram was handed to her. She opened it hurriedly, and read:
"Marjorie has scarlet fever. Do not let Elizabeth come.