CHAPTER XIV.
GOOD BYE They were alone together in the quiet room--Peace Maythorne and Joy.
The thick yellow sunlight fell in, touching the old places,--the wall where Gypsy's blue and golden text was hanging,--a little patch of the faded carpet, the bed, and the folded hands upon it, and the peaceful face.
Joy had crept up somewhat timidly into Gypsy's place close by the pillow.

She was talking, half sadly, half gladly, as if she hardly knew whether to laugh or cry.
"You see, we're going right off in this noon train, and I thought I _must_ come over and say good-bye." "I'm real sorry to have you go--real." "Are you ?" said Joy, looking pleased.

"Well, I didn't suppose you'd care.

I do believe you care for everybody, Peace." "I try to," said Peace, smiling.

"You go in rather a hurry, don't you Joy ?" "Yes.