I had known many lonely hours, to be sure, but those visits to the little old weather-stained house, in which I found my first friends after leaving home, cheered me from week to week.

I knew, too, that Hetty enjoyed those long evenings as much as I did, which meant more to me than I would have dared confess to her.

I thought of her a good deal, but it always resulted in the wretched feeling that we were both very young after all.

It is not likely that I would have decided to go home for a fortnight, but that I thought it would be pleasant to observe the effect of saying good-by to Hetty.

I had no doubt that she would be quite overcome with grief and loneliness after I had gone, and, reckless youth that I was, nothing could have made me more happy than to have known that she really felt grieved on my account.