certain,
spell the word which way you will. Day after day I waited and watched,
and sent down to the post-office to be sure there was no mistake in that
department; but nothing came of it; no answer reached me. I became
peaked and down-hearted, so much so, dear sisters, that Cousin Dempster
got anxious about me, and one day asked me, in the kindest manner, if I
would like to run on to Washington with him.

"Run on to Washington," says I; "how far is it, cousin?"

"Why," says he, "about two hundred and thirty miles, I should say."

"Two hundred and thirty miles," says I, almost screaming. "Why, Cousin
D., I couldn't do it to save my life."

"Oh!" says he, "it isn't a very tedious ride."

"Ride," says I. "Why, didn't you ask me just now to run on with you? How
can I do both?"

Cousin D. laughed, and began to rock up and down till he almost bent
double; though what it was about I couldn't begin to tell.

"Well," says he, "just get your trunk or carpet-bag packed, and I'll
call for you in the morning. Emily Elizabeth can't leave home just now,
and it will be a great pleasure to me if I can have you along."

"If you'd just as lief," says I, "I'll speak to Cousin E. E. about it;
under present circumstances, a young girl like me can't be too
particular. I'm told that a good many married men have got a habit of
travelling toward Washington in what seems like a single state, and it's
wonderful how many of them have unprotected females put under their
charge--sometimes, both ways. If E. E. has no objection, I'll be on hand
bright and early."

Dempster kept on laughing, and I went upstairs wondering what had set
him off so, but when I asked Cousin E. E. if she had any objection to my
travelling to Washington with her husband, she began to laugh too, as if
it was the best sort of a joke that a York lady should be expected to
care about her husband's travelling off with other feminine women.

"Why," says she, a-wiping the fun and tears from her eyes with a lace
handkerchief, "what do you think I care! We don't keep our husbands shut
up in band-boxes here in the great metropolis."

"No," says I to myself, "nor do you get much chance to shut 'em up at
home, according to my thinking."

"Besides," says she, with comicality in her eyes, looking at me from
head to foot: "I should never think of being jealous of you, Cousin
Phoemie."

Here, that child looked up from a novel she was a-reading.

"The idea," says she, which w