old parlor and examined the quaint articles
and some of the old-fashioned books. Josie wished they might try the
harp and see how it would sound, but no one would propose it if Miss
Lois was so poorly.

"It's very queer," said Hanny. "She played for me once. The strings are
rusted and broken, and it sounds just like the ghost of something, as if
you were going way, way back. I didn't like it."

The German woman was out in the kitchen and gave them each a piece of
cake. There was a quaint old dresser with some pewter plates and a
pitcher, and old china, and a great high mantel.

"You seem way out in the country," said Charles. "But it's pretty, too.
And the trees and the river and Fort Washington. Why, it's been like an
excursion. I am so glad you asked me to come."

Margaret entered the room. "She wants to see you, Hanny," she said
quietly. "And when she is stronger she would like the little girls to
come again."

Hanny went into the chamber. Miss Lois was sitting up in the big rocker,
but her face was as white as the pillow back of her head. And oh, how
thin her hands were! strangely cold, too, for a summer day.

"I'm very glad you came again, little Hanny," she said. "I had been
thinking of you and Margaret all day, and how good it was of your father
and you to hunt me up as you did. You've given me a deal of happiness.
Tell him I am thankful for all his kindness. Will you kiss me good-by,
dear? I hope you'll be spared to be a great comfort to every one."

Hanny kissed her. The lips were almost as cold as the hands. And then
she went out softly with a strange feeling she did not understand.

It was late enough then to go straight home. Dr. Joe had a little talk
with his mother, and the next day he took her up to Harlem. The children
went over to Daisy's in the afternoon and told her about "everything."
Mrs. Jasper insisted upon keeping them to supper.

Her mother had not returned when the little girl went to bed. It seemed
so strange the next morning without her. Margaret was very quiet and
grave, so the little girl practised and sewed, and then read a while. In
the afternoon her mother came home and said Miss Lois had gone to be
with her sister and her long-lost friends in the other country.

A feeling of awe came over her. No one very near to her had died, and
though she had not seen so very much of Miss Lois, for her mother had
gone up quite often without her, the fact that she had been there so
lately,