“There were sights of trees, and flowers, and vines, and fountains, and little deer,” said the child, “and when I asked ma why she did not live there now, she cried, and pa put his arm tight ’round her,—­so.”

From this Mrs. Campbell inferred that Ella’s family must have been superior to most of the English who emigrate to this country, and after a few more questions she decided to take her for a time, at least; so with another kiss she dismissed her, telling her she would come for her soon.  Meantime arrangements were making for Mary and Alice and on the same day in which Mrs. Campbell was to call for Ella, Mr. Knight, one of the “Selectmen,” whose business it was to look after the town’s poor,[A] also came to the cottage.  After learning that Ella was provided for, he turned to Mary, asking “how old she was, and what she could do,” saying, that his wife was in want of just such a girl to do “chores,” and if she was willing to be separated from Alice, he would give her a home with him.  But Mary only hugged her sister closer to her bosom as she replied “I’d rather go with Alice.  I promised mother to take care of her.”

[Footnote A:  In Massachusetts each town has its own poor-house.]

“Very well,” said the man, “I’m going to North Chicopee, but shall be back in two hours, so you must have your things all ready.”

“Don’t cry so, Mary,” whispered Billy, when he saw how fast her tears were falling.  “I’ll come to see you every week, and when I am older, and have money, I will take you from the poor-house, and Alice too.”

Just then, Mrs. Campbell’s carriage drove up.  She had been taking her afternoon ride, and now, on her way home, had stopped for Ella, who in her delight at going with so handsome a woman, forgot the dreary home which awaited her sister, and which, but for Mrs. Campbell’s fancy, would have been hers also.  While she was getting ready, Mr. Knight returned, and driving his old-fashioned yellow wagon, with its square box-seat up by the side of Mrs. Campbell’s stylish carriage, he entered the house, saying, “Come, gal, you’re ready, I hope.  The old mare don’t want to stand, and I’m in a desput hurry, too.  I orto be to hum this minute, instead of driving over that stony Portupog road.  I hope you don’t mean to carry that are thing,” he continued, pointing with his whip towards Alice’s cradle, which stood near Mary’s box of clothes.

The tears came into Mary’s eyes, and she answered “Alice has always slept in it, and I didn’t know but—­”

Here she stopped, and running up to Ella, hid her face in her lap, and sobbed, “I don’t want to go.  Oh, I don’t want to go, can’t I stay with you?”

Billy’s yellow handkerchief was suddenly brought into requisition, and Mrs. Bender, who, with all her imaginary aches and pains, was a kind-hearted woman, made vigorous attacks upon her snuff-box, while Mrs. Campbell patted Mary’s head, saying, “Poor child.  I can’t take you both, but you shall see your sister often.”