trenchant manner she usually
employed in speaking to me; and which was quite different from that she
used with Mrs. Bretton, and different again from the one dedicated to
Graham. I wished to ascertain more of what she thought but no: she
would converse no more. Hastening to Mrs. Bretton, she questioned her,
and received the confirmation of my news. The weight and importance of
these tidings kept her perfectly serious the whole day. In the evening,
at the moment Graham's entrance was heard below, I found her at my
side. She began to arrange a locket-ribbon about my neck, she displaced
and replaced the comb in my hair; while thus busied, Graham entered.

"Tell him by-and-by," she whispered; "tell him I am going."

In the course of tea-time I made the desired communication. Graham, it
chanced, was at that time greatly preoccupied about some school-prize,
for which he was competing. The news had to be told twice before it
took proper hold of his attention, and even then he dwelt on it but
momently.

"Polly going? What a pity! Dear little Mousie, I shall be sorry to lose
her: she must come to us again, mamma."

And hastily swallowing his tea, he took a candle and a small table to
himself and his books, and was soon buried in study.

"Little Mousie" crept to his side, and lay down on the carpet at his
feet, her face to the floor; mute and motionless she kept that post and
position till bed-time. Once I saw Graham--wholly unconscious of her
proximity--push her with his restless foot. She receded an inch or two.
A minute after one little hand stole out from beneath her face, to
which it had been pressed, and softly caressed the heedless foot. When
summoned by her nurse she rose and departed very obediently, having bid
us all a subdued good-night.

I will not say that I dreaded going to bed, an hour later; yet I
certainly went with an unquiet anticipation that I should find that
child in no peaceful sleep. The forewarning of my instinct was but
fulfilled, when I discovered her, all cold and vigilant, perched like a
white bird on the outside of the bed. I scarcely knew how to accost
her; she was not to be managed like another child. She, however,
accosted me. As I closed the door, and put the light on the
dressing-table, she turned tome with these words:--"I cannot--_cannot_
sleep; and in this way I cannot--_cannot_ live!"

I asked what ailed her.

"Dedful miz-er-y!" said she, with her piteous lisp.

"Shall I call Mrs.