r pink. Her eyes had, too, a
brilliancy almost painful to look upon. They seemed like ardent fires,
in which the life was slowly burning away.

"Sit down, sit down, little Mara," said Aunt Ruey. "Why, how like a
picture you look this mornin',--one needn't ask you how you do,--it's
plain enough that you are pretty well."

"Yes, I am, Aunt Ruey," she answered, sinking into a chair; "only it is
warm to-day, and the sun is so hot, that's all, I believe; but I am very
tired."

"So you are now, poor thing," said Miss Ruey. "Roxy, where's my
turkey-feather fan? Oh, here 'tis; there, take it, and fan you, child;
and maybe you'll have a glass of our spruce beer?"

"Thank you, Aunt Roxy. I brought you some young wintergreen," said Mara,
unrolling from her handkerchief a small knot of those fragrant leaves,
which were wilted by the heat.

"Thank you, I'm sure," said Miss Ruey, in delight; "you always fetch
something, Mara,--always would, ever since you could toddle. Roxy and I
was jist talkin' about your weddin'. I s'pose you're gettin' things well
along down to your house. Well, here's the beer. I don't hardly know
whether you'll think it worked enough, though. I set it Saturday
afternoon, for all Mis' Twitchell said it was wicked for beer to work
Sundays," said Miss Ruey, with a feeble cackle at her own joke.

"Thank you, Aunt Ruey; it is excellent, as your things always are. I was
very thirsty."

"I s'pose you hear from Moses pretty often now," said Aunt Ruey. "How
kind o' providential it happened about his getting that property; he'll
be a rich man now; and Mara, you'll come to grandeur, won't you? Well, I
don't know anybody deserves it more,--I r'ally don't. Mis' Badger was
a-sayin' so a-Sunday, and Cap'n Kittridge and all on 'em. I s'pose
though we've got to lose you,--you'll be goin' off to Boston, or New
York, or somewhere."

"We can't tell what may happen, Aunt Ruey," said Mara, and there was a
slight tremor in her voice as she spoke.

Miss Roxy, who beyond the first salutations had taken no part in this
conversation, had from time to time regarded Mara over the tops of her
spectacles with looks of grave apprehension; and Mara, looking up, now
encountered one of these glances.

"Have you taken the dock and dandelion tea I told you about?" said the
wise woman, rather abruptly.

"Yes, Aunt Roxy, I have taken them faithfully for two weeks past."

"And do they seem to set you up any?" said Miss Roxy.

"No, I