change of air,
she should have it, she should pay his uncle Macdermott a visit, and
take Izzie with her, but what should he do without Izzie, he asked
himself, but with surprising magnanimity, he refused to consider that
question. He had been a little inattentive perhaps lately and owed her
some amends, so Izzie should go with her. He knew very well that Natalie
would never go without her, and, truth to tell, he had his misgivings as
to how Izzie would behave without her mother, so, as he really thought
it needful, it was as much necessity as kindness, that brought him to
this decision.

Natalie submitted passively to all their arrangements, but, on the
evening previous to their departure, when Louis was enjoying a cigar in
the library, after superintending all the preparations for the next
day's start, Natalie came fondly to his side, and laying her hand softly
upon his shoulder, said in a voice that trembled with emotion, "I cannot
go, do not ask me, Louis, I cannot, will not leave you," and her head
sank on her hand, as she again murmured "do not ask me."

"Pooh, Natie, what nonsense," he answered, laughing.

"No Louis, I cant, you promised that you would come for a week, so I
will wait until you can take the week, and then we will go together, but
not now alone, O, not alone," and she sobbed out on his shoulder the
pent up anguish of her heart. He drew her to him with more kindness than
he had shown for a long time.

"You will not send me away," she whispered.

"Now, Nattie dear, be reasonable, you know you are not strong, and I
want you to get your roses back, and a week would be too short a time to
benefit you much, so in four weeks time I will come for two, that will
do, won't it."

She shook her head, "I have a terrible dread of the journey, no Louis,
I will not go, I will wait till you can come with me."

Louis was not one to submit to opposition, his brow grew dark and the
fierce light was kindling in his eye. She should go, once for all he
would not brook this resistance. After he had decided to let Izzie go to
please her, and save all fuss, was this to be the end of it? no. "It is
too late to say that now," he said, "a few weeks will soon pass, and
this idle fear is childish."

"I should have spoken before, only I did so wish to please you if I
could."

"No, Natalie," he said, sternly, "you do not care whether I am pleased
or not, you think of nothing but your own foolish fancies."

"Don't be c