full, all the haymaking mothers made it
serve as an infant school, and though as much window was opened as there
could be, the effect was not coolness. Nevertheless, Ethel sat down and
gathered her class round her, and she had just heard the chapter once
read, when there was a little confusion, a frightened cry of "Ethel!"
and before she could rise to her feet--a flump upon the floor--poor Mary
had absolutely fainted dead away.

Ethel was much terrified, and very angry with herself; Mary was no light
weight, but Mrs. Elwood coming at their cry, helped Ethel to drag
her into the outer room, where she soon began to recover, and to be
excessively puzzled as to what had happened to her. She said the sea was
roaring, and where was Harry? and then she looked much surprised to
find herself lying on Mrs. Elwood's damp flags--a circumstance extremely
distressing to Mrs. Elwood, who wanted to carry her upstairs into
Cherry's room, very clean and very white, but with such a sun shining
full into it!

Ethel lavished all care, and reproached herself greatly, though to be
sure nothing had ever been supposed capable of hurting Mary, and Mary
herself protested that nothing at all had ailed her till the children's
voices began to sound funny, and turned into the waves of the sea, and
therewith poor Mary burst into a great flood of tears, and asked whether
Harry would ever come back. The tears did her a great deal of good,
though not so much as the being petted by Ethel, and she soon declared
herself perfectly well; but Ethel could not think of letting her walk
home, and sent off a boy--who she trusted would not faint--with a note
to Margaret, desiring her to send the gig, which fortunately was at home
to-day.

Mary had partaken of some of Mrs. Elwood's tea, which, though extremely
bitter, seemed a great cordial, and was sitting, quite revived, in the
arbour at the door, when the gig stopped, and Dr. Spencer walked in.

"Well, and how are you?"

"Quite well now, thank you. Was Margaret frightened? Why did you come?"

"I thought it would make her happier, as your father was not at home.
Here, let me feel your pulse. Do you think no one is a doctor but your
papa? There's not much the matter with you, however. Where is Ethel?"

"In the school," and Mary opened the door. Dr. Spencer looked in, as
Ethel came out, and his face put her in mind of Norman's look.

"No wonder!" was all he said.

Ethel was soon satisfied that he did not t