hue of health, the
transparency of the complexion seemed characteristic of her type, and
precluded all thought of disease. Miss Margaret muttered something
inaudible in reply to her last remark, and Irene walked on to school. Her
father's residence was about a mile from the town, but the winding road
rendered the walk somewhat longer; and on one side of this road stood the
small house occupied by Mrs. Aubrey. As Irene approached it she saw Electra
Grey coming from the opposite direction, and at the cottage gate they met.
Both paused: Irene held out her hand cordially--

"Good morning. I have not seen you for a fortnight. I thought you were
coming to school again as soon as you were strong enough?"

"No; I am not going back to school."

"Why?"

"Because auntie can't afford to send me any longer. You know her eyes are
growing worse every day, and she is not able to take in sewing as she used
to do. I am sorry; but it can't be helped."

"How do you know it can't be helped? Russell told me he thought she had
cataracts on her eyes, and they can be removed."

"Perhaps so, if we had the means of consulting that celebrated physician in
New Orleans. Money removes a great many things, Irie, but unfortunately we
haven't it."

"The trip would not cost much; suppose you speak to Russell about it."

"Much or little it will require more than we can possibly spare. Everything
is so high, we can barely live as it is. But I must go in; my aunt is
waiting for me."

They shook hands and Irene walked on. Soon the brick walls of the academy
rose grim and uninviting, and taking her place at the desk she applied
herself to her books. When school was dismissed in the afternoon, instead
of returning home as usual, she walked down the principal street, entered
Mr. Watson's store, and put her books on the counter. It happened that the
proprietor stood near the front door, and he came forward instantly to wait
upon her.

"Ah, Miss Irene! happy to see you. What shall I have the pleasure of
showing you?"

"Russell Aubrey, if you please."

The merchant stared, and she added--

"I want some kid gauntlets, but Russell can get them for me."

The young clerk stood at the desk in the rear of the store, with his back
toward the counter; and Mr Watson called out--

"Here, Aubrey, some kid gauntlets for this young lady."

He laid down his pen, and taking a box of gloves from the shelves, placed
it on the counter before her. He had not not