COUSIN PHILLIS. 85
I was busier than ever, doing both his work and my own. Then came a letter from him, very short and affectionate. He was going out in the Saturday steamer, as he had more than half expected; and by the following Monday the man who was to succeed him would be down at Eltham. There was a P.S., with only these words: —
"My nosegay goes with me to Canada, but I do not need it to remind me of Hope Farm."
Saturday came; but it was very late before I could go out to the farm. It was a frosty night, the stars shone clear above me, and the road was crisping beneath my feet. They must have heard my footsteps before I got up to the house. They were sitting at their usual employments in the house-place when I went in. Phillis's eyes went beyond me in their look of welcome, and then fell in quiet disappointment on her work.
"And Where's Mr. Holdsworth?" asked cousin Holman, in a minute or two." I hope his cold is not worse, — I did not like his short cough."
I laughed awkwardly; for I felt that I was the bearer of unpleasant news.
"His cold had need be better — for he's gone — gone away to Canada!"
I purposely looked away from Phillis, as I thus abruptly told my news.
"To Canada!" said the minister.
"Gone away!" said his wife.
But no word from Phillis.
"Yes!" said I. "He found a letter at Hornby when we got home the other night — when we got home from here; he ought to have got it sooner; he was
