They piled up comforts and blankets in the
cart, and she lay on them quite snugly, her scarred child's-face
looking out from a great woollen hood Mrs. Howth gave her. Old
Yare held Barney, with his hat in his hand, looking as if he
deserved hanging, but very proud of the kindness they all showed
his girl. Holmes gave him some money for a Christmas gift, and
he took it, eagerly enough. For some unexpressed reason, they
stood a long time in the snow bidding Lois good-bye; and for the
same reason, it may be, she was loath to go, looking at each one
earnestly as she laughed and grew red and pale answering them,
kissing Mrs. Howth's hand when she gave it to her. When the cart
did drive away, she watched them standing there until she was out
of sight, and waved her scrap of a handkerchief; and when the
road turned down the hill, lay down and softly cried to herself.
Now that they were alone they gathered close about the fire,
while the day without grew gray and colder,--Margret in her old
place by her father's knee. Some dim instinct had troubled the
old man all day; it did now: whenever Margret spoke, he listened
eagerly, and forgot to answer sometimes, he was so lost in
thought. At last he put his hand on her head, and whispered,
"What ails my little girl?" And then his little girl sobbed and
cried, as she had been ready to do all day, and kissed his
trembling hand, and went and hid on her mother's neck, and left
Stephen to say everything for her.
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