For a time indeed she was tormented lest she had left something undone or unsaid about her going away. Had she done this thing in a way that would have pleased her mother and father? But as the train went on by new ways across an enchanting country, she forgot her unpleasant experiences of Warloch castle and only the pleasant things came to the surface of her memory. The dear piano and her mother’s precious picture. The lovely old books in the bookcase in her room that she had so hoped to read sometime. Would she ever go back and read them? Some of their names she could remember, and she took out a pencil and paper and wrote them down lest they might slip from her memory. Perhaps someday she would be able to buy some of them. Ah, there was one thing she would like to buy, and that was that dear piano. Her aunt did not play. It could not be so very dear to her. Would it offend them sometime if she suggested it? Of course, not now. She had no money, except the tiny fortune her father had left.
