They were like old friends; she had wandered among them so often.

One held her gaze an instant, with its well-known marble hand, pointing the place in a marble book in which was carved one text.

How often she had spelled the words, pointing out the deeply carven letters to Davy: "_Be ye also ready._" She had a vague feeling that the headstones knew she was going away and would miss her.

"Good-bye," she said to them, too, nodding the white sunbonnet gravely.

It seemed a solemn thing to start on such a journey.
After leaving the church there was only one more place to bid good-bye, and that was the schoolhouse sitting through its lonely vacation time in a deserted playground, gone to weeds.
There was no time to spare at the station.