At the end of the week my curiosity regarding my new position was quenched, and I dropped into the depths of my first wretchedness.

I frantically demanded of father, who had stopped to see me on his way to Milford, to be taken home.

He firmly resisted me.
Once a month, I should go home and spend a Sunday, if I chose, and he would come to Barmouth every week.
My agitation and despair clouded his face for a moment, then it cleared, and pinching my chin, he said, "Why don't you look like your mother ?" "But she _is_ like her mother," said Aunt Merce.
"Well, Cassy, good-by"; and he gave me a kiss with cruel nonchalance.
I knew my year must be stayed out..