ach other with apprehensive eyes.

The grown people came in the evening. The most wonderful thing was that
Mr. and Mrs. Reed were among the parents. Cousin Jane was still at the
Reeds'; and, as she was "handy" about sewing, she had altered Mrs.
Reed's old-fashioned gowns, and made her some new ones.

Mrs. Reed did not get real strong, and was troubled somewhat with a
cough when cold weather came on. But she lost her weather-beaten look,
and did gain a little flesh. She was very presentable in her black-silk
dress, with some lace at the throat and wrists that she had bought at
her marriage. She wore a little black-lace head-dress with a few purple
bows; and she admitted to Charles that the Jaspers were very fine
people, and she was sorry they were going away; but it would take a mint
of money for a whole family to travel around like that.

The Jaspers' house was then dismantled; but they were going to board for
about ten days. Hanny and Josie Dean went down to see the state-room and
wish them _bon voyage_. Doctor Joe had given Mrs. Jasper counsel about
everything that might happen to Daisy.

Then the signal was given for all who were not going to return on shore.
There were some tender kisses and tears; and Doctor Joe took both girls
by the arm and steadied them down the gang-plank. What a huge thing the
steamer looked! But it was nothing compared to the later ones.

It was very lonesome. The night was pleasant, and Hanny sat out on the
stoop with her father; but, whenever she tried to talk, something
swelled up in her throat and made her feel like crying. But her father
hugged her up close. She would always have him.

It had not seemed so sad to have Nora go away; in fact they could see
her any time. And she had not loved Nora quite so well. She didn't love
any girl as she loved Daisy, and it seemed as if she could not live a
whole year without her.

They talked about it at school, and most of the girls envied her the
splendid journey. "I don't know as I would mind being a little lame, if
I could have such a beautiful face, and be taken everywhere," said one
of the girls.

But Hanny didn't want to be anybody else, if she had to give up her own
mother and father, and dear Joe and Ben and, oh, little darling Stevie.

Just after this a black-bordered envelope came up from Hammersley
Street. Grandfather Bounett, who had been very feeble of late, had died.
Hanny had seen him a number of times since her memorable int