happy only a minute before, had begun to cry. After they reached the car, her tears increased to sobs: she grew almost hysterical.
"Oh! don't make me go, papa," she implored, clinging to her father's arm. "I shall be so homesick! It will kill me: I know it will. Please let me stay. Please let me go home with you."
"Now, my darling," protested Mr. Page, "this is foolish: you know it is."
"I can't help it," blubbered Lilly. "I ca—n't help it. Oh! don't, don't make me go. Don't, papa dear. I ca—n't bear it."
Katy and Clover felt embarrassed during this scene. They had always been used to considering tears as things to be rather ashamed of,—to be kept back, if possible; or, if not, shed in private corners, in dark closets, or behind the bed in the nursery. To see the stylish Lilly crying like a baby in the midst of a railway carriage, with strangers looking on, quite shocked them. It did not last long, however. The whistle sounded; the conductor shouted, "All aboard!" and Mr. Page, giving Lilly a last kiss, disengaged her cling-
