"I'll go down in the field where he is, on my way home." Tears sprang into Charlotte's eyes.

"You're real good, Rose," she said; "but I can't." "Hadn't you better ?" "No; I can't.

Don't let's talk any more about it." Charlotte pushed past Rose's detaining hand, and the girls went down-stairs.

Mrs.Barnard looked around dejectedly at them as they entered the kitchen.

Her eyes were red, and her mouth drooping; she was clearing the debris of the pies from the table; there was a smell of baking, but Cephas had gone out.