Presently she said, "Now look!"

I looked and saw a perfect, beautifully formed G made by the scarlet
berries on the green moss.

"There," she said, "I'll send that back to George, to show him that I have
found him in the berries; or, no," she added, "we'll keep it till he comes
to see me. The doctor said I could be carried down-stairs to-morrow, and
then I shall begin to 'receive,'" and she laughed a gay little laugh, and
sank back tired.

That moment stands out in my memory as the saddest, hardest one of all. I
think at that moment hope died in my heart.

When I told George of this, and showed him the saucer of moss--for she
had ordered it to be set on the drawing-room table, saying, "It is too
pretty to stay up here with bottles and invalids,"--he buried his face in
his hands for many minutes. When he lifted it, he looked me steadily in
the eye, and said,--

"She has utterly forgotten this whole year. But I will win her again."

Then he knelt down and kissed every little leaf and berry which her hands
had touched, and went away without speaking another word.

It was decided after this that it could do no harm for him to see her.
Indeed, he now demanded it. His resolution was taken.

"You need not fear," he said to Dr. Fearing, "that I shall agitate her by
approaching her as if she were my own. She is not my own. But she will
be!"

We all sat with trembling hands and beating hearts as the hour approached
at which we knew the experiment was to be made.

Annie had been carried down-stairs, and laid upon a lounge in the western
bay-window of the library. The lounge was covered with dark green damask.
Old Caesar had so implored to be allowed to carry her down, that Annie had
insisted that he should be gratified; and she went down as she had so
often done in her childhood, with her soft white face lying close to his
shining black one.

As he put her down, in her rose-colored wrapper, on the dark green damask,
he knelt before her and burst out in spite of himself, into a sort of wild
chant of thanksgiving; but as we entered the door he sprang up ashamed,
and turning to Aunt Ann, said: "Beg pardon, missis, but this rose yere was
too much pink rose for old Caesar!"

It was "too much pink rose" for any human eyes to see unmoved. We all
cried: and Annie herself shed a few tears, but finally helped us all by
saying gayly,--

"You'll make me ill again if you all go on like this. I hate people that
cry."

No str