very.

Most schools had kept open all the year round, but now the higher ones
were giving a month's vacation. Altogether it had been a happy year to
Cynthia. She had really been adored at school. Her frocks were admired,
she let the girls curl her hair, usually she wore it tied in a bunch
behind--not unlike the queue. Then she had some rings that she coaxed
Rachel to let her wear, it was such a pleasure to lend them to the
girls. She was learning what was considered necessary for a girl in
those days; a good deal more with Cousin Chilian. She kept her love for
the Latin and often read to him. She began to draw and paint flowers,
she joined the dancing-class, which was a delight to her; but Chilian
suggested she should not mention it to Elizabeth. She pirouetted up and
down the path like a fairy, and he loved to watch her.

There had been parties among the girls, but he would rather not have her
go, it was a bad thing for children to be up so late. She went to take
tea now and then. The Turners were very fond of her and the Uphams
wanted her once a week. She wondered if she might ever ask any one to
tea.

Then they planned what they would do in this wonderful vacation. Go off
for day's rides, take sails up and down, there were so many places. She
was brimming over with joy.

Chilian was called up in the night by Mother Taft.

"She's had a stroke. And she seemed so smart yesterday. She even laughed
over some school stories Cynthia told. That child's brought her flowers
every morning, and she's softened so much to her. I really think she's
been getting religion, as one may say, and being prepared."

Chilian heard the stertorous breathing. The eyes were half open and
rolled up, her face was drawn. He took the hand. It was cold and heavy.

"I'll go for the doctor. I think the end has come."

Dr. Prescott said the same thing, adding with a slow turn of the head,
"She will not last long."

What should he do with Cynthia? He remembered how careful her father had
been to shield her. She must not see Elizabeth, she must not confront
death in this awesome fashion.

When they came to breakfast he said:

"Cynthia, wouldn't you like to go in to Boston with me this morning?"

"Oh, it would be splendid!" She clapped her hands in delight.

"Well, Rachel must get you ready. We will take the stage. It goes early
now."

Of course, she was full of excitement. It had been planned as one of the
month's outings, but to take it