lar out in the tablecloth, and let the cat into the pantry half a
dozen times; and that when scolded for these sins of omission or
commission, she had a fit of crying, and did a little worse than before.
Silence was of opinion that Susan was getting to be "weakly and naarvy,"
and actually concocted an unmerciful pitcher of wormwood and boneset,
which she said was to keep off the "shaking weakness" that was coming
over her. In vain poor Susan protested that she was well enough; Miss
Silence _knew better_; and one evening she entertained Mr. Joseph Adams
with a long statement of the case in all its bearings, and ended with
demanding his opinion, as a candid listener, whether the wormwood and
boneset sentence should not be executed.

Poor Susan had that very afternoon parted from a knot of young friends
who had teased her most unmercifully on the score of attentions
received, till she began to think the very leaves and stones were so
many eyes to pry into her secret feelings; and then to have the whole
case set in order before the very person, too, whom she most dreaded.
"Certainly he would think she was acting like a fool; perhaps he did not
mean any thing more than friendship, _after all_; and she would not for
the world have him suppose that she cared a copper more for him than for
any other _friend_, or that she was _in love_, of all things." So she
sat very busy with her knitting work, scarcely knowing what she was
about, till Silence called out,--

"Why, Susan, what a piece of work you are making of that stocking heel!
What in the world are you doing to it?"

Susan dropped her knitting, and making some pettish answer, escaped out
of the room.

"Now, did you ever?" said Silence, laying down the seam she had been
cross-stitching; "what _is_ the matter with her, Mr. Adams?"

"Miss Susan is certainly indisposed," replied our hero gravely. "I must
get her to take your advice, Miss Silence."

Our hero followed Susan to the front door, where she stood looking out
at the moon, and begged to know what distressed her.

Of course it was "nothing," the young lady's usual complaint when in low
spirits; and to show that she was perfectly easy, she began an unsparing
attack on a white rosebush near by.

"Susan!" said Joseph, laying his hand on hers, and in a tone that made
her start. She shook back her curls, and looked up to him with such an
innocent, confiding face!

Ah, my good reader, you may go on with this part of t