n home, my uncle said he thought I should enjoy a change of
air and scene for a time as he fancied I was looking pale and thin. I
replied that I felt quite well, and felt no wish to leave my home during
vacation.

However, about this time, a party was formed among my acquaintances for
visiting the White Mountains, and they were anxious that I should make
one of their number; and, as my uncle and aunt strongly advised me to
go, I at length consented.

The sublime scenery of the White Mountains has been so often and so ably
described by tourists, that any description from me would be
superfluous. Upon our arrival at the Profile House, we found it so much
crowded with guests that we had no little difficulty in obtaining
accommodation. When one party left, the vacancy was almost immediately
filled up by fresh arrivals of pleasure-seekers. Every one seemed highly
to enjoy themselves, and time passed swiftly away.

I was one evening seated on the piazza, engaged in a very pleasant
conversation with several ladies and gentlemen, who, like me, had sought
the piazza to enjoy the refreshing coolness of the evening air, after an
intensely hot day. I noticed a carriage approaching in which several
persons were seated. I did not at first pay much attention, as the
arrival of strangers was a matter of very frequent occurrence; but, as
the carriage drew nigh, my attention was riveted by a lady seated
therein. She made some smiling remark as one of the gentlemen stepped
from the carriage and assisted her to alight. That smile was
sufficient--it was the very smile of Miss Edmonds, the same happy smile
which had so pleased my fancy years ago. The seven years which had
passed since I had seen her had somewhat changed her countenance; but
her smile was the same. As she took the arm of the gentleman who
accompanied her, and ascended the steps of the piazza, I stepped forward
and spoke to her as any stranger might accost another in a place of
public resort. I wished to see if she would recognize me. She replied to
me only as she might have done to any other stranger, but without the
least sign of recognition. Perceiving that she did not recognize me, I
went near to her and said,--

"Can it be possible, Miss Edmonds, that you have forgotten your old
pupil, Clara Roscom?"

In a moment I was clasped in her arms and felt her kisses upon my cheek.
Turning to the gentleman whose arm she had left, she said,--

"Allow me, Miss Roscom, to intr