home. Maria had declared that, if her father did persist in stealing the meeting-house, she would not stay a single day after it, but would follow Dave.
“That touched me pretty close, for, to tell the truth, it was rather more Maria than her mother that kept me at work for the old man. ‘If you go,’ says I, ‘then there is no object for me to stay; I shall go too.’
“‘That's what I supposed,’ says she; ‘for there's no reason in the world why you should stay. But then Dan will go; and who’ll be left to take sides with mother? That’s what troubles me. Oh, if she could only go too! But she won’t; and she couldn’t if she would, with the other children depending on her. Dear, dear! what shall we do?'
“The poor girl put her head on my shoulder, and cried; and if I should own up to the truth, I suppose I cried a little too. For where’s the man that can hold a sweet woman’s head on his shoulder, while she sobs out her trouble, and he hasn’t any power to help her—who, I say, can do any less, under such circumstances, than drop a tear or two for company?
“‘Never mind; don't hurry,’ says Mrs. Jedwort. ‘Be patient, and wait a while, and it’ll all turn out right, I'm sure.’
“‘Yes, you always say, “Be patient, and wait!’” says Maria, brushing back her hair. ‘But, for my part, I'm tired of waiting, and my
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