-- of the things that must be gained and the things that must
be lost before that 'for ever' rest could in any sort be
looked forward to, -- and dismissing the thought, Elizabeth
blessed her fragrant moss pillow of Lethe and went to sleep
again.

How she dreaded getting rested; how she longed for that
overpowering fatigue and exhaustion of mind and body to
prolong itself! And as the hours went on, she knew that she
was getting rested, and that she would have to wake up to
everything again by and by. It should not be at anybody's
bidding.

"Miss 'Lizabeth! --" sounded Clam's voice in the midst of her
slumbers.

"Go away, Clam!" said the sleeper, without opening her eyes.

"Miss 'Lizabeth, ain't ye goin' to eat nothin'?"

"No -- Go away."

"Miss 'Lizabeth! -- dinner's ready."

"Well! --"

"You're a goin' to kill yourself."

"Don't _you_ kill me!" said Elizabeth impatiently. "Go off."

"To be sure," said Clam as she turned away, -- "there ain't
much company."

It was very vexing to be disturbed. But just as she was
getting quiet again, came the tread of Mrs. Nettley's foot
behind her, and Elizabeth knew another colloquy was at hand.

"Are you asleep, Miss Haye?" said the good lady a little
timidly.

"No," said Elizabeth lifting her head wearily, -- "I wish I
were."

"There's dinner got ready for you in the house."

"Let anybody eat it that can. -- I can't."

"Wouldn't you be better for taking a little something? I'm
afraid you'll give way if you do not."

"I don't care," said Elizabeth. "Let me give way -- only let me
alone!"

She curled her head down determinately again.

"I am afraid, Miss Haye, you will be ill," said poor Mrs.
Nettley.

"I am willing," -- said Elizabeth. "I don't care about
anything, but to be quiet! --"

Mrs. Nettley went off in despair; and Elizabeth in despair
also, found that vexation had effectually driven away sleep.
In vain the locust sang and the moss smelled sweet; the tide
of feeling had made head again, and back came a rush of
disagreeable things, worse after worse; till Elizabeth's brow
quitted the moss pillow to be buried in her hands, and her
half-quieted spirit shook anew with the fresh-raised tempest.
Exhaustion came back again; and thankfully she once more laid
herself down to sleep and forgetfulness.

Her sleep was sound this time. The body asserted its rights;
and long, long she lay still upon her moss pillow, while the
regular deep-drawn breath c