Salome. Marshall Emma

cry as the fly, laden with boxes, rumbled slowly down the drive. Stevens sobbed aloud, and Raymond and Reginald kept their heads well out of each window; but Salome sat pale and tearless. The coachman's wife at the lodge stood with her children round her at the large gate, and curtseyed; but she hid her face in her apron, and cried bitterly. The gardener had preceded them with the cart to the station, and the boxes were all labelled before the party in the fly arrived.