e.

The next day was the auction, and it required the persuasion of both
Mrs. Campbell and Mary to keep Jenny from going, she knew not whither
herself, but any where, to be near and take one more look at the dear
old furniture as it passed into the hands of strangers. At last Mrs.
Campbell promised that black Ezra, who had accompanied her from
Chicopee, should go and report faithfully all the proceedings, and
then Jenny consented to remain at home, though all the day she seemed
restless and impatient, wondering how long before Uncle Ezra would
return, and then weeping as in fancy she saw article after article
disposed of to those who would know little how to prize it.

About five o'clock Uncle Ezra came home, bringing a note from Ida,
saying that the carriage would soon be round for Mary and Jenny, both
of whom must surely come, as there was a pleasant surprise awaiting
them. While Mary was reading this, Jenny was eagerly questioning Uncle
Ezra with regard to the sale, which, he said, "went off uncommon
well," owing chiefly, he reckoned, "to a tall, and mighty good-lookin'
chap, who kept bidding up and up, till he got 'em about where they
should be. Then he'd stop for someone else to bid."

"Who was he?" asked Mary, coming forward, and joining Jenny.

"Dun know, Miss; never seen him afore," said Uncle Ezra, "but he's got
heaps of money, for when he paid for the pianner, he took out a roll
of bills near about big as my two fists!"

"Then the piano is gone," said Jenny sadly, while Mary asked how much
it brought.

"Three hundred dollars was the last bid I heard from that young
feller, and somebody who was biddin' agin him said, 'twas more'n 'twas
wuth."

"It wasn't either," spoke up Jenny, rather spiritedly, "It cost five
hundred, and it's never been hurt a bit."

"Mr. Bender bought that _little fiddle_ of your'n," continued Uncle
Ezra, with a peculiar wink, which brought the color to Jenny's cheeks;
while Mary exclaimed, "Oh, I'm so glad you can have your guitar
again."

Here the conversation was interrupted by the arrival of the carriage,
which came for the young ladies, who were soon on their way to Mr.
Selden's, Mary wondering what the surprise was, and Jenny hoping
William would call in the evening. At the door they met Ida, who was
unusually merry,--almost too much so for the occasion, it seemed to
Mary, as she glanced at Jenny's pale, dispirited face. Aunt Martha,
too, who chanced to cross the hall, sho