s into a frown. "I looked at those
words yesterday, and they made me miserable at night. I was foolish
enough to think that we should always go on together as we go on now,
till I saw that copy. I hate the copy! It came to my mind when I was
awake in the dark, and it seemed to tell me that _we_ were going to
change some day. That's the worst of learning--one knows too much, and
then there's an end of one's happiness. Thoughts come to you, when you
don't want them. I thought of the young lady we saw last week in the
park."

She spoke gravely and sadly. The bright contentment which had given a
new charm to her eyes since she had been at the cottage, died out of
them as Amelius looked at her. What had become of her childish manner
and her artless smile? He drew his chair nearer to her. "What young lady
do you mean?" he asked.

Sally shook her head, and traced lines with her pen on the blotting
paper. "Oh, you can't have forgotten her! A young lady, riding on a
grand white horse. All the people were admiring her. I wonder you cared
to look at me, after that beautiful creature had gone by. Ah, she knows
all sorts of things that I don't--_she_ doesn't sound a note at a time
on the piano, and as often as not the wrong one; _she_ can say her
multiplication table, and knows all the cities in the world. I dare say
she's almost as learned as you are. If you had her living here with you,
wouldn't you like it better than only having me!" She dropped her arms
on the table, and laid her head on them wearily. "The dreadful streets!"
she murmured, in low tones of despair. "Why did I think of the dreadful
streets, and the night I met with you--after I had seen the young lady?
Oh, Amelius, are you tired of me? are you ashamed of me?" She lifted her
head again, before he could answer, and controlled herself by a sudden
effort of resolution. "I don't know what's the matter with me this
morning," she said, looking at him with a pleading fear in her eyes.
"Never mind my nonsense--I'll do the copy!" She began to write the
unendurable assertion that change is a law of Nature, with trembling
fingers and fast heaving breath. Amelius took the pen gently out of her
hand. His voice faltered as he spoke to her.

"We will give up the lessons for today, Sally. You have had a bad
night's rest, my dear, and you are feeling it--that's all. Do you think
you are well enough to come out with me, and try if the air will revive
you a little?"

She rose, a