“Exactly; so it becomes us not to worry about any foolish little ifs.” And worry they did not from that moment, not one of the happy trio, about anything under the sun, or over it, and they sailed away with bright and happy faces. Tears were for eyes that left nearest and dearest behind, not for those who took them with them; and yet a wistful look, that was often to be seen on Mrs. Harris's expressive face, deepened as the Majestic steamed down the harbor. And when they reached the point where the white stones of Greenwood look down on the water, she stole alone to the rail of the deck, and the wistfulness turned to a mist that hid everything for a moment.