aits of his children, explaining them, while I went to a table
between the windows to examine the green and white sprays of
some delicate flower I had never before seen. Its fragrance was
intoxicating. I lifted the heavy vase which contained it; it was taken
from me gently by Charles, and replaced.

"It will hardly bear touching," he said. "By to-morrow these little
white bells will be dead."

I looked up at him. "What a contrast!" I said.

"Where?"

"Here, in this room, and in you."

"And between you and me?"

His face was serene, dark, and delicate, but to look at it made me
shiver. Mother came toward us, pleading fatigue as an excuse for
retiring, and Cousin Charles called Cousin Alice, who went with us to
our room. In the morning, she said, we should see her three children.
She never left them, she was so afraid of their being ill, also
telling mother that she would do all in her power to make my stay in
Rosville pleasant and profitable. As a mother, she could appreciate
her anxiety and sadness in leaving me. Mother thanked her warmly, and
was sure that I should be happy; but I had an inward misgiving that I
should not have enough to eat.

"I hear Edward," said Alice. "Good-night."

Presently a girl, the same who had taken our bonnets, came in with
a pitcher of warm water and a plate of soda biscuit. She directed us
where to find the apparel she had nicely smoothed and folded; took off
the handsome counterpane, and the pillows trimmed with lace, putting
others of a plainer make in their places; shook down the window
curtains; asked us if we would have anything more, and quietly
disappeared. I offered mother the warm water, and appropriated the
biscuits. There were six. I ate every one, undressing meanwhile, and
surveying the apartment.

"Cassy, Mrs. Morgeson is an excellent housekeeper."

"Yes," I said huskily, for the dry biscuit choked me.

"What would Temperance and Hepsey say to this?"

"I think they would grumble, and admire. Look at this," showing her
the tassels of the inner window curtains done up in little bags. "And
the glass is pinned up with nice yellow paper; and here is a damask
napkin fastened to the wall behind the washstand. And everything
stands on a mat. I wonder if this is to be my room?"

"It is probably the chamber for visitors. Why, these are beautiful
pillow-cases, too," she exclaimed, as she put her head on the pillow.
"Come to bed; don't read."

I had taken up a red moroc