friend! Is she as pretty as ever?"

"Prettier,--prettier,--prettier. _Tara-ta! tara-ta!_"

"Oh, Robert, do stop that singing! You'll rouse the whole house."

V.

Late one afternoon, at dusk, about three weeks after Mr. Bruce's
arrival, Lizzie was sitting alone by the fire, in Miss Cooper's parlor,
musing, as became the place and hour. The Doctor and his sister came in,
dressed for a lecture.

"I'm sorry you won't go, my dear," said Miss Cooper. "It's a most
interesting subject: 'A Year of the War.' All the battles and things
described, you know."

"I'm tired of war," said Lizzie.

"Well, well, if you're tired of the war, we'll leave you in peace. Kiss
me good-bye. What's the matter? You look sick. You are homesick, a'n't
you?"

"No, no,--I'm very well."

"Would you like me to stay at home with you?"

"Oh, no! pray, don't!"

"Well, we'll tell you all about it. Will they have programmes, James?
I'll bring her a programme.--But you really feel as if you were going to
be ill. Feel of her skin, James."

"No, you needn't, Sir," said Lizzie. "How queer of you, Miss Cooper! I'm
perfectly well."

And at last her friends departed. Before long the servant came with the
lamp, ushering Mr. Mackenzie.

"Good evening, Miss," said he. "Bad news from Mrs. Ford."

"Bad news?"

"Yes, Miss. I've just got a letter stating that Mr. John is growing
worse and worse, and that they look for his death from hour to
hour.--It's very sad," he added, as Elizabeth was silent.

"Yes, it's very sad," said Lizzie.

"I thought you'd like to hear it."

"Thank you."

"He was a very noble young fellow," pursued Mr. Mackenzie.

Lizzie made no response.

"There's the letter," said Mr. Mackenzie, handing it over to her.

Lizzie opened it.

"How long she is reading it!" thought her visitor. "You can't see so far
from the light, can you, Miss?"

"Yes," said Lizzie.--"His poor mother! Poor woman!"

"Ay, indeed, Miss,--she's the one to be pitied."

"Yes, she's the one to be pitied," said Lizzie. "Well!" and she gave him
back the letter.

"I thought you'd like to see it," said Mackenzie, drawing on his gloves;
and then, after a pause,--"I'll call again, Miss, if I hear anything
more. Good night!"

Lizzie got up and lowered the light, and then went back to her sofa by
the fire.

Half an hour passed; it went slowly; but it passed. Still lying there in
the dark room on the sofa, Lizzie heard a ring at the door-bell, a man's