on her couch; -- "I don't care if she is or no."

"Ay, but you might care."

"I don't know why," said Winnie.

"How would you like to have a new sister one of these days? --
by and by?"

"A sister?"

Mrs. Nettley nodded.

"A sister!" said Winnie. "How should I have a sister?"

"Why such a thing might be," said Mrs. Nettley. "Did you never
think of one of your brothers getting married?"

"Winthrop won't!" said Winnie, -- "and I don't care what Rufus
does."

"What makes you think Winthrop won't?"

"He won't!" said Winnie with flushing cheeks.

"Wouldn't you be glad? You would like anything that would make
him happy."

"Happy!" said Winnie. -- "Glad! -- I do wish, Mrs. Nettley, you
would go down stairs and leave me alone!"

Mrs. Nettley went away, in some astonishment. And before her
astonishment had cooled off in her own kitchen, down came
Winnie, with flushed cheeks still, and watery eyes, and a
distressed face, to beg Mrs. Nettley's forgiveness. It was
granted with her whole heart, and a burden of apologies
besides; but Winnie's face remained a distressed face still.
The chicken, broiled on Mrs. Nettley's fire, was salted with
some tears; and all the simple and careful preparations for
Winthrop's dinner were made more carefully than usual; but
when Winthrop came home, his little sister was as far from
being herself as ever.

It happened that Winthrop was very busy that day and had no
time to talk, except the disjointed bits of talk that could
come between the joints of the chicken; and pleasant as those
bits were, they could not reach the want of poor Winnie's
heart. Immediately after dinner Winthrop went out again; and
she was left to get through the afternoon without help of
anybody.

It had worn on, and the long summer day was drawing to its
close, when Winthrop was at last set free from his business
engagements and turned his face and his footsteps towards
home. The day had been sultry and his toil very engrossing;
but that was not the reason his footsteps flagged. They
flagged rarely, but they did it now. It needed not that he
should have noticed his little sister's face at dinner; his
ordinary burdens of care were quite enough and one of them
just now pressing. In a sort of brown study he was slowly
pacing up one of the emptying business streets, when his hand
was seized by some one, and Winthrop's startled look up met
the round jocund well-to-do face of the German professor.

"Wint'rop