ed people, and curses that were
fulfilled. These made a great impression upon me; still I was not
afraid, for all such things were far outside the boundaries of my safe
little world; and I played by myself along the shore of the river and
in the garden; and I had my lessons with cousin Agnes, and drives with
cousin Matthew who was nearly always silent, but very kind to me. The
house itself was an unfailing entertainment, with its many rooms, most
of which were never occupied, and its quaint, sober furnishings, some
of which were as old as the house itself. It was like a story-book;
and no one minded my going where I pleased.

I missed my father and mother; but the only time I was really unhappy
was the first morning after my arrival. Cousin Agnes was ill with a
severe headache; cousin Matthew had ridden away to attend to some
business; and, being left to myself, I had a most decided re-action
from my unnaturally bright feelings of the day before. I began to
write a letter to my mother; but unluckily I knew how many weeks must
pass before she saw it, and it was useless to try to go on. I was
lonely and homesick. The rain fell heavily, and the garden looked
forlorn, and so unlike the enchanting moonlighted place where I had
been in the evening! The walks were like little canals; and the
rose-bushes looked wet and chilly, like some gay young lady who had
been caught in the rain in party-dress. It was low-tide in the middle
of the day, and the river-flats looked dismal. I fed cousin Agnes'
flock of tame sparrows which came around the windows, and afterward
some robins. I found some books and some candy which had come in my
trunk, but my heart was very sad; and just after noon I was overjoyed
when one of the servants told me that cousin Agnes would like to have
me come to her room.

She was even kinder to me than she had been the night before; but she
looked very ill, and at first I felt awkward, and did not know what to
say. "I am afraid you have been very dull, dearie," said she, reaching
out her hand to me. "I am sorry, and my headache hardly lets me think
at all yet. But we will have better times to-morrow--both of us. You
must ask for what you want; and you may come and spend this evening
with me, for I shall be getting well then. It does me good to see your
kind little face. Suppose you make Madam a call this afternoon. She
told me last night that she wished for you, and I was so glad. Deborah
will show you the way."