_’‘ _ "_‘ll' ' ’-f _ _ "'— H * ~'~’"s_.r.‘ P 'Y 1 a \ lhlflllll Four Girls -= n n * * At Cottage City _.By__ 'EMMA D. KELLEY-HAWKINS AUTHOR OF “ MEGDA. ” BOSTON: JAMES H.EARLE,PmamHER 178 VVASHINGTON STREET I898 "1 J wfl“ COPYRIGHT, 1895. BY EMMA D. KELLEY-HAWKINS. All rights reserved. » (1 ’//Q 9 /1// “703/3 TO DEAR AUNT LOTTIE WHOM I HAVE OFTEN AND TRULY CALLED MY ‘ Second Mother ’ [ze’*_ l DEDICATE THIS BOOK. THE REWARD, “WELL DONE, THOU GOOD AND FAITHFUL SERVANT,” WILL SURELY ONE DAY BE HERS4 ‘The 041417107’. PREFACE. If you who read this book, should meet with my four girls who spent three such delightful weeks at that beautiful resort, Cottage City, ask them “if such and such a thing of which I write” did actually happen. They would answer for the most part “yes ” and give you a smile with the answer. The cottage at which they stopped is easily found, but the dear old people who made it so pleasant for them, are gone—never to return. “ Mother” and “Grandpa” clasp hands in a better country than this. The story of Charlotte Hood is but little changed, although it was not‘ related to our young people and is known to but one of them. Yet it is only one of the many sad stories that may truthfully be told of lives that are lost and homes made deso- late on the shores of bleak Cape Cod. How many aching hearts have been lulled to eternal sleep by the solemn music of the old Atlantic. If any dis- contented one, after reading the life of Charlotte Hood, will say to herself, “ I am thankful it is as well with me as it is,” the Mission of this Book Will have been fulfilled. THE AUTHOR. "11' l ‘|1|ll\[r\| [it [.( [Ill/,ll‘ 'El CONTENTS. CHAPTER I. OURGIRLS,_ - - - - - _ CHAPTER. II. “MOTHER,” - - - - - - CHAPTER III. ONLY A FACE, - - - - - - CHAPTER IV. AN AFTERNOON WTTE TENNYsON, - - CHAPTER V. Two NATURES, - - - - - - CHAPTER VI. GETTING ACQUAINTED, - - - - CHAPTER VII. A ‘VARW DISCUSSION, - - - - CHAPTER VIII. ROBIN, - - - - - - CHAPTER IX. Wm IN THE CAMP, - - - - - CHAPTER X. THE “ MEDIUM,” .- - - - - CHAPTER XL VERA$ FUTURE w REVEALED To HER, - CHAPTER XII. JEsslE GROPES IN THE DARK, - ~ - PAGE. 9 25 48 59 78 90 105 112 128 144 158 170 CHAPTER XIII'. “ ROBIN’S HOUR,” - - - _ _ CHAPTER XIV. A NEW LODGER, I - - - CHAPTER XV. EREORT SPEAKS, - - _ _ CHAPTER XVI. “ ROBIN’s HOUR,"-Continued, - CHAPTER XVII. LIGHT BEGINS TO GLIMMER FOR JEssIE, CHAPTER XVIII. “ MY NAME IS JOIIN,” - - - CHAPTER XIX. GARNET BECOMES FRIGHTENED, - _ CHAPTER XX. A SAD TALE, - - - - - CHAPTER XXI. “MARJORIE DARLING,” - - - CHAPTER XXII THE DREAM TIIAT SAVED A SOUL, - CHAPTER XXIII. AN EXCITING EVENING, - - - CHAPTER XXIV. ’A NOBLE PLAN, - - - - CHAPTER XXV. “ G001) BYE,” - - - - _ CHAPTER XXVI LIGIIT BREAKS FULL U110)v JEssIE, - 182 191 204 220 236 248 266 Y 278 294 308 . 323 340 358 370 ______ ___ __“ __l___m, r__“—_ _. , lI—‘q ,— __‘__—'"“__1‘l-’—‘’_lw 96456'964 Four Girls at Cottage City. CHAPTER I. “What a shame it should rain this day, of all days, Net! Yesterday was a perfectly delightful day, and now—just look here ! ” ‘and Jessie Dare drew back the window curtain and looked over her shoulder at her sister, who was lying snugly down between the sheets with the calmest of all calm faces, which was, to say the least, very exasper- ating to the troubled Jessie. “Well, never mind, Jess; we can’t help the weather. Come back to bed— we needn’t get up yet,” and Garnet turned comfortably over and pre- pared herself for a few minutes more of that sleep which was one of her greatest luxuries, and which came as easily to her as it does to a kitten. “ Come back to bed and run the risk of losing our train? Not much, Miss Dare. You just vacate ' that bed just about as quick as you can do it; if you can’t do it alone, I’ll furnish assistance,” and like a flash Jessie ran around to the other side of the bed, and before Garnet had had hardly time 10 Jfour Girls at ctottage Gity. enough to open her great dark eyes and make a feeble protest against such treatment, Jessie had her out on the floor, and was issuing forth her com- mands in true military style. Garnet paid little attention to them, however, but 'went around in her quiet, calm way, Well knowing that she would be the first to announce herself ready, although Jessie was already partly dressed. And so she was. Jessie had so much running around to do (her tongue keeping remarkably good time with her feet) flying to the window every now and then to peer with anxious little face out into the gray, misty, rainy morning, losing her brush or ribbon, or pin, and calling on Garnet to help her find it, until at last Garnet stood ready to go down to the dining room, while Jessie had a good five minutes’ more work before her. Garnet good- naturedly rendered assistance to her careless, but lovable little sister, and the two girls descended the stairs and entered the dining room together. Mrs. Dare looked up with a smile. “It is too bad you have not a better day for your journey, my dears,” she said, sympathizingly. “ Do you think the other girls will venture out ?” As if in answer to her question, the door-bell rang. Jessie ran down stairs and opened the door. A slender, blue-eyed girl stood on the steps, holding a huge umbrella over her head, which was little protection from the driving sheets of water. Jessie ilfour (Birls at Glottage (Mty. 1 1 greeted her with a laugh in which joy and fear were most comically intermingled. “ Oh, Allie Hunt! If you don't look too comical for anything— just like a toad under a cabbage leaf. Come right in outof all this rain ! ” She drew Allie, who had looked a trifle indig- nant at being compared to a toad, into the hall and shut the door; then she went on: “You don't mean to tell me, Allie Hunt, that you have come to say you are not going? because if you have, you can save yourself the trouble of saying it—I won’t listen to it.” Allie laughed her low, lady-like laugh, (every- body dz'd laugh at Jessie’s little sayings.) “I didn’t come to say any such thing, Miss Jessie, I Y only came to see if the rest were going.” “ Well, you'just believe the rest are going. We wouldn’t stay away for this little rain.” "‘I thought it was a pretty big rain while I was coming down here; but I can stand it if the rest can. Have you heard from Vera? She may not come.” How Jessie laughed! “Vera Earle not come? That shows you do not know her aswell as 1. She will come if she is not sick in bed.” “Well, then, I may as 'well go back and get ready.” “Yes, and you be sure and get to the depot in ' time.” 12 Jfour (Birls at Cottage Ging. “ Oh, yes, sure.” “ An hour after found the three girls standing in the ladies’ waiting room of P depot, looking with anxious eyes out into the driving rain. In spite of Jessie’s repeated assurances that she knew Vera would come, her sparkling little face was just the least bit shadowed with the cloud of nervous fear that she mag/u‘ not come after all—it did rain so. A low exclamation from Garnet caused her to turn quickly; the next moment she was running across the wide room, regardless of the many eyes watching her, and holding out both hands to a tall, gray-eyed girl who was just coming from the side entrance. Jessie’s girlish voice rang out sweet and joyous.” ' “ Oh, you darling—you /zave come. I knew you would; what made you so late? We had almost given you up.” And Jessie clasped her hands around her tall friend’s arm and hurried her forward to the other two girls. . Then began such a chattering and laughing as would have done any one’s heart good to hear. The two gentlemen, Vera’s brother, and Garnet’s and Jessie’s brother-in-law, procured the tickets, attended to the baggage and then hovered around the “outskirts,” so to speak, listening to the gay chatter, with superior smiles on their faces, until the whistle of the approaching train resounded, when all was bustle and confusion. ¢_ —~4,‘._ ..__'’f‘_ __ .— ._.._,.__ ,_\~__ __ Jfour (Birls at Gottage Gtty. 29 me put the question : All those in favor ofstopping at this station raise the right hand.” Not a hand went up. “ Contrary minds, the same sign.” , Up went all the hands, Jessie raising both of hers. “ We will go,” said Vera. “And the sooner the better,” added Jessie. “ You tell her, Vera,” said Garnet. “ Yes, I’ll smooth it over,” answered Vera. And she did; expressing herselfin such a pretty, lady-like manner that the lady was not at all offended, and wished them all success, as she followed them to the door. “Jessie,” said Vera, where was it you and your mother stayed the time you came here three or four years ago ?” ' “ Sure enough ! ” exclaimedJessie, “ How stupid in us Garnet, not to have thought of it. Let me see.” She stood still in' the middle of the street, her umbrella over her shoulder, and puckered her forehead into a dozen little wrinkles. “ Oh, dear, dear, dear, where was it ? ” “ Don’t stand in the middle of the street, Jess,” said Garnet. “ People will think you have struck an 'attitude for their 'especial benefit.” “ Let them think,” retorted Jessie. “ Why couldn’t you have kept still, Net Dare, for another minute i‘ I was just thinking ofit.” 30 jfour (Btrls at'(tottage (Lity. “ Was it Trinity Park ?” asked 'Allie, absently. “ Right you are, All” exclaimed Jessie, ele- gantly. “ Whatever made you think of it ?” “I happened to look up’ and see the name,” nodding her head towards a sign-post. “ Well, of all things ! ” exclaimed Jessie. “ Here we are, and I verily believe that is the self-same house before us—the one on the corner. There used to be the darlz'ngcst old lady and gen- tleman there when mother and I were down that .summer! Let us try, anyway; it looks like the house.” “ Rooms to let, anyway,” said Vera. “ There's a card in the window.” There were two front doors, both opening onto a wide piazza with a low railing around it. One of the front rooms projected out some little distance ahead of the other. As the girls went up the neat walk and ascended the steps, the green blind-door of one of the parlors opened, and a tall, white- haired gentleman stood on the step. His broad shoulders were bent with age, and the hand that held back the door, trembled; but the smile that lighted the worn face and shone in the dim blue eyes, was a bright and cheery one. “ Are’you in search of rooms, young ladies ?” he asked, and his voice was very quavering. “ Yes, sir,” answered Vera. “ Have you any to dispose of ? ” I__mii,_i‘“‘_ — — Jfour (Birls at cottage (tite. 3‘ “I think mother has,” he replied. “ Come right in, out of the rain. Mother is up stairs; but sit down, please, and I’ll call her,” and he walked . slowly and unsteadily out of the room. “ ‘ Mother ’ is evidently the ruling spirit,” whis- pered Vera, sitting down with Garnet on a low, comfortable lounge. “1 like here,” said Garnet, decidedly. “ And I do hope ‘ Mother ’ can accommodate us.” “I wish she’d hurry up,” said Jessie.' “ My feet are wet.” “He looked like a nice old gentleman, didn’t he ?” observed Allie. “ ’Sh,” said Vera, warningly. “ Here they come.” ' Steps were heard, slowly approaching the door. It opened, and “ Mother” stood on the threshold. Four fair, girlish faces, were turned expectantly toward the spot where she stood ; four pair of bright, girlish eyes, were lifted to her face ; and four warm, impulsive, girlish hearts, were at once laid at the trembling feet of “ Mother.” But even while the girls looked at, and loved at once, the pale, refined, gentle old face, framed with its soft waves of silvery hair, they couldn’t help noticing, that while one slender hand patted nervously the pale blue cap that had evidently been put on hurriedly, the other rested on the arm of, and held determinedly back, her husband. 32 Jfour (BtrIs at (tottage Gtty. “ Mr. Atherton tells me you are in search of rooms,” she began, and when the girls heard her voice, they wondered how they could have thought Mr. Atherton’s was quavering; it was strong, com- pared with “ Mother's.” “ I have some rooms that are very good. Would you want two single ones or one large one ?” “ We would prefer one large one, if you have it,” replied Vera. “ Well, I have. Will you walk up stairs P” “ Mother” led the way up a pair of “ christian stairs,” as Vera called them, and opened the door of a room, the sight of which elicited little cries of delight from the girls. “ Mother ” heard the cries with a pleased smile. “ Yes, I think you will like this rooin,” she said, with childish pleasure. “ Like it ! ” said Vera. “ It is perfectly lovely.” It was a good-sized, square room. A double door, half glass, opened on to a cunning little bal- cony. On one side of the room there was a win- dow with inside blinds. Two beds were in the room, a rocking-chair, two common chairs, a table“, and a washstand. To the girls great delight there were two good-sized closets. “ We will go right down to the wharf and have our trunks sent up,” said Vera. ‘~ Yes, you and Net do that and Allie and I will send postals home,” said Jessie. .Ag— G .“h Mir “,5: at' ,_J—\‘—_a_u Jfour (Birls at Gottage Gity. 33 “ Wait just a minute and I’ll write a line to mother, and you can drop it in for me,” said Vera. When the girls went out they found the rain had stopped to a considerable extent, but the streets were very wet and muddy, and their walk down to the wharf was anything but a pleasant one. When they returned to the cottage they found their room empty-Allie and Jessie had not come back. “Just like that lazy little Jess,” said Garnet. “ She means to stay away until the room is ready.” “Here are some sheets and pillow cases,” said Vera.' “ Suppose we begin on the beds?” “ All right. You take that one and I’ll take this.” Vera stood in the middle of the room and shook a pillow into its case. “ I consider it a great streak of luck—our getting such a good room,” she said. Then she stopped with the pillow in mid-air, and a look of horror on her face. “Come right up. The girls are at home—I hear them talking. Yes, here they are,” and Jessie threw open the door and walked into the room followed by Allie and—oh, horror of horrors ! Cousin Fred and Mr. Richards ! Vera sank on the bed she was making, holding her pillow in her lap as though it were a baby. Garnet, after bestowing a look on Jessie that was meant to annihilate her, sank on her bed also, and glared wildly on 'the unwelcome visitors. Mr. Richards saw their mis- 34 jfour (Birls at Giottage Gtty. take in accepting Jessie’s invitation to “ come up and see their room,” and drew hastily back into the passage, but Cousin Fred came right in and looked about him with delighted eyes. “ What a splendid room,” he cried, admiringly. “Just as pleasant as it can be. Beats ours all to hollow, Er,” and he sat himself down comfortably on the foot of Garnet’s bed. Vera had assumed her “dignified manner.” She was all proud reserve in a moment; yet the reserve was just touched with a sweetness that made her very charming. She rose quietly from the bed. “Wont you come in, Mr. Richards?” and she placed a chair for him as she spoke. “ I think, Mr. Travers, you will find this seat more comfort- able,” ofl'ering him a chair, also. “ You must ex- cuse our disorder, but we have scarcely had time to settle.” “Oh, I told them they would find everything topsy-turvey,” said Jessie, easily, throwing her gossamer over the foot-board, and her hat on the bed. “ Haven’t you two lazy girls got the beds made yet? ” “I feel that I have committed an unpardonable offense,” said Mr. Richards, gravely. I regret our thoughtlessne'ss exceedingly. ’ “ Oh, it is all right,” said Garnet, feebly. Fred, who had looked a little blank at what his friend had said, brightened up at this. “ Of course II“ca— _‘‘ *fip‘—_éW jfour (Birls at Glottage (Mty. 35 it is all right. You don’t care for your cousin.” Vera might have reminded him that s/ze could claim relationship with neither him or his friend, and Mr. Richards might have done the same with regard to the girls, but they thought it best to say nothing. The gentlemen stayed about half an hour. Fred would have stayed until dark, had not Mr. Rich- ards, insisted upon their going. ~ “I suppose you will take in most of the band concerts, won’t you?” asked Fred, as they rose to go. “ \Vell, we hope to, but we do not know whether we will venture out to-night or not,” replied Garnet. “ It will be decidedly damp,” said Fred. “ We shall hope to see you to-morrow.” “ We shall be glad to have you call.” “ Perhaps the weather will permit our entertain- ing on the piazza,” said Vera, smiling. “ That would be very pleasant,” said Mr. Richards. Jessie showed the gentlemen out. It was the punishment that Vera inflicted upon her for showing them in. When she came back, quiet little Garnet turned on her with her black eyes blazing. “Jessie Dare, you don’t know anything. You are worse than any baby.” There were two pairs of black eyes blazing now. “ I’m not to blame for taking after my sister,” 36 Jfour (Birls at Gottage (tite. i Vera, earnestly. retorted Jessie. Then she added, vehemently: “ For pity’s sake, don’t begin to jaw, Net, but let us have something to eat, I’m starving.” Garnet’s eyes lost their fire, and she grew calm. Jessie chuckled wickedly. “ I thought the eating ' dodge would quiet her,” she whispered to Allie. Vera and Garnet finished the bed-making, and then the bags of sandwiches and crackers were produced. Vera and Garnet sat on one bed, Jessie and Allie on the other, and “ fell to.” In the midst ofthe feast, there came a low knock on the door. “ Who now? ” said Vera, putting the hand that held the sandwich, back of her, and going to open the door. “ Mother” stood in the passage, with “ Grandpa ” peering over her shoulder. “ Excuse me, please, but is there anything more that you want ? Ifthere is, tell me, and I’ll bring it to you.” “ Oh, no, thank you,” said Vera, gently. have everything needful.” “ Will you have another quilt ? The nights are quite chilly just now. Mr. Atherton will get you one if you would like it.” “Oh, yes, yes,” quavered “Grandpa,” over “Mother’s” shoulder. “ I’ll get you one.” “ Oh, but really, we do not need another,” said “ You have made us quite com- “We fortable.” jfour (Birls at Gottage Gite. 37 “Well, I’m glad to hear it. Now you must make yourselves right to home—just as if you belonged here,” went on “ Mother,” and the girls smiled and nodded their heads, and tried not to think of the sandwiches. “Mr. Atherton and me both like young people, and you’re welcome to any room in the house.” “ Thank you ; thank you,” chorused the girls. “Yes,” smilingly assented “ Mother,” looking more childishly pleased than ever, “ when you get tired of staying up here, go down in either of the parlors. I’ve got a bed in one, but that needn’t make any difference.” “ No, no, that needn’t make any difference,” echoed “ Grandpa,” . coming out from behind “Mother” a little way; but the slender, aged hand quickly forced him back again, and he retired obedi- ently. “ We haven’t anyone here just now, and perhaps we shan’t have for a week or two, but you can’t tell. When they come they generally come all together; but you shall have your first choice of the rooms, anyway, no matter how many come.” Just her'e, Vera almost upset the girls’ gravity, by moving her head, so that the door came between it and the old people, and taking a good bite out of her sandwich. The mouthful disposed of, she showed her face to them again, smiling sweet, and full of gentle interest. Still, “Mother’s” small 38 four (Birls at Giottage Glite. talk rippled on, uninterruptedly, like the gentle murmuring of a brook, over its mossy bed, and at stated intervals, Vera’s head disappeared behind the door, and she continued her surreptitious lunch. It made Jessie feel almost murderous, as for Garnet, who' can describe /zcr agony ! At last the gentle murmuring grew fainter and fainter and finally died away all together. Vera’s head came from behind the door and Vera’s smile was the last the two good old people saw as they moved away — “ Mother’s ” hand still restingon the arm of, and gently propelling onward, “Grandpa.” “ Oh, Vera, you wretch !” cried Jessie. “ How could you? ” . “ Couldn’t help it, Jess. I am but human.” “ They are a dear old couple, ” said Jessie, taking a bite that surely made up for half a dozen held back, “ but most terribly long-winded. ” And Gar- net did not even reprove her. At6o’clock the girls once more donned their’ hats and waterproofs. They had put a towel on the back of the rocker and caught it up in one corner with a bright bow of ribbon. They had spread another towel on the table and put their books and work-boxes on it. They had hung their clothes up in the closets and arranged their bottles, brushes, combs and sponges on the washstand, and on the narrow ledge that ran along either side of the room under the eaves. Vera and ‘Garnet had spread Jfour (Bids at Gottage Gtty. 39 their bright red shawls on the foot of each bed, and the room looked very cosy and homelike. Then they had sat in the dim twilight and talked, and sung snatches of low song, until the electric light, in the park opposite their room, had flared up suddenly and brightly and warned them that it was high time to be looking out for their “ resteraunt. ” They did not need a lamp, for they opened the door and the electric light flooded their room with its moon-like brightness. They locked the other door and went quietly down the stairs and out of the side entrance, which “ Mother ” had informed them would belong exclusively to them. The rain had ceased,but the air was full of a damp, drizzling mist. Just before them on the corner they saw a sign “ Bridgett’s Dining-Rooms. ” Jessie read it aloud, pronouncing “ Bridgett’s ” with the emphasis on the first syllable. None of the others knew but what it was right. “Well, let us go in and see ‘ Bridgett, ’ ” said Vera. “Perhaps she can give us a plate of baked beans.” The very mention of this “home-dish” made Jessie and Allie murmur words of delight, but Garnet could only express her consent with a groan. It spoke volumes though. ' “ And now, ” said Vera, an hour later, as they walked slowly up Circuit avenue and looked' into the lighted windows, “ let us go to the concert.” 4O your (Birls at Gottage Gtty. There were very few Promenaders when they reached the park. The girls found a seat under one of the trees, spread their gossamers upon it, put up their umbrellas and sat there, patiently wait- ing for the band to begin. By and by a little boy came around with programmes and gave them each one. The people commenced to come by ones, and twos and threes, some bringing their camp- chairs with them, other leaning against the trees or walking slowly up and down. Little twinkling lights of red and green and yellow, like fairy lamps, commenced to move quickly to and fro, meeting and passing other twinkling lights of red and green and yellow. “ The bicyclists are~beginning to turn out, ” said Garnet. “ I thought we would see them. ” The musicans took their places, the leader stood before them with his baton raised, a pause—up went the baton, down it came again, now on the right, now on the left—then a burst of glad music, and our girls felt that they were really at Cottage City. Promenaders walked to and fro, laughing and talking, despite the drizzling mist, more fairy lamps twinkled on the avenue. Two or three little boys with baskets on their arms, went from chair to chair. “ Corn-bars; nice corn-bars, straw- berry, vanilla, cotfee and chocolate. Have some, ladies?” Our girls’ thought they would. By the time they were eaten, “ home” was jfour Girls at Gottage Gite. 41 proposed. On the way back they stopped at a drug-store and invested in a pound of candy, each girl buying a quarter. Garnet bought chocolate- creams ; Vera, n'ougats ; Jessie, chocolate-almonds ; and Allie, caramels. “We’ll save them for to-morrow,” said Jessie, putting one slyly into her mouth. “ Yes, we’ll want something to do all day,” re- plied Vera. “Aren’t we going to morning services?” asked Allie, timidly. “Well, yes, we might as well,” 'said Garnet. “ The tabernacle is right opposite the cottage.” “Yes, we’ll go,” said Vera. We wont sit very far down, and if we get tired we can get up and go out.” “ I’ll go on that condition,” said Jessie. They entered the house noiselessly for fear of disturbing the old people, but as they reached the top of the stairs, “ Mother” came out of her room with a flannel night-dress on and a light in her hand. Jessie could be heard to faintly groan—she thought they were out therefor half the night; then her spirits grew lighter as she thought ofthe pack- age in her hands. If she grew too tired—but “Mother” did not keep them in the passage long. “ I forgot to give you a lamp,” she whispered, as tho’ some one lay asleep very near them, but the girls saw “Grandpa” peering from his room at 42 - Jfour (Birls at Gottage Gtty. them over “ Mother’s ” shoulder. “ Mother ” put her hand out and held him back. “ Take this one. I am undressed and Mr. Atherton can undress in the dark. ' Did you have a good supper? ” “ Yes’m ; very good,” answered Vera. “ Where did you go? They have some real good baked-beans every Saturday night at ‘ Bridgett’s ’— on the corner here.” “ Mother ” put the emphasis on the last syllable, and the girls nudged each other softly at their mistake. “ That is where we went,” said Garnet. “ Yes; it’s a real good place,” said “ Mother.” “I hope you will sleep well. Good-night.” “ Good-night,” answered the girls. “ My!” said Jessie. “ There isn’t much to ‘ Mother’ when she is in dz's/zabilly, is there ! ” Vera laughed merrily as she set the lamp on the table. “ No, there isn’t,” she said. Then she turned a face half laughing, half serious towards them. “ Girls, how long do you suppose ‘ Mother’ has been holding ‘ Grandpa’ back with that little slender hand of hers?”- “I bet she didn’t do it when he popped the ques- tion,” said Jessie, with more force than elegance. “ I guess she commenced holding him back when the question as to who should rule was first brought up,” said Garnet, disappearing into one of the closets to hang her dress up. ‘H jfour Girls at Glottage Gtty. 43 ‘i“Grandpa’ seems to yield to it pretty well,” said Allie, from the other closet. “Yes, ‘Mother’s’ victory seems to have been complete,” said Vera, sitting down on the bed and beginning to’ unbutton her boots. '“ Who would imagine such a will-power in a delicate body like her. And such a hand as s/ze has ! Truly it is a ‘velvet hand in an iron glove.’ ” “ Poor ‘ Grandpa’ looks as though he realized it fully,” said Jessie. “Speaking of delicate bodies with iron wills,” said Allie. “ Don’t you think that in nine cases out of ten you will find they go together?” “ Yes, I do,” said Vera, decidedly. “ You can never judge by appearances. Those who look as though they were born to rule are generally the ones who are ruled. You will very often find the spirit of a mouse concealed. in the frame of a large woman, while your little, slender, wiry one is as courageous as a lion. I wonder how it is? And the rule holds good with the other sex, only timid- ity in a man isa hundred times more contemptible than in a big woman. The woman’s sex excuses her to an extent, but what is more despicable than a cowardly man—especially if he is a big one? Garnet! what are you doing in that closet so long?” “ Listening to your learned discourse for one thing, and—” here she appeared in the doorway 44 four (Birls at Glottage Gtty. bearing something in her hands, “ getting the alcohol lamp out to make some cocoa, for another.” “ Garnet, you are my dearly-beloved sister,” saidJessie, enthusiastically. “ I choose the biggest cup.” ' “Where shall I set it ?” asked Garnet, standing still in her white night dress, and looking around. “ Put it on here,” said Vera, drawing forward a chair. “ It is steady.” “ Now you three, make some spills out of that paper on the floor,” said Garnet, pouring some alcohol in the basin of the lamp.’ “ We haven’t any matches to spare; and for pity’s sake close that blind, some one; I don’t care about the young gent next door having a view of me just now.” “ Sure death to him if he did,” said Jessie, obey- ing the command. Garnet, on her knees, gave her undivided atten- tion to the burning alcohol, the other three girls crouched on the floor around her and watched the process with deep interest, each one holding a spill in her hand. _ “ My, but it shmells goot,” said Jessie, skinning her little nose up, until it well-nigh disappeared from view. “Well, we haven’t go0t our cups ready,” said. Vera ; and Jessie, with a gasp, fell over on the floor as if the miserable little pun, had stricken her lifeless. ~—~-__5 a.‘ jfour Girls at Gottage Gity. 45 “ Don’t, Vera,” groaned Garnet. “ I want some appetite left for the cocoa.” “Never fear but what you will have some, my dear,” returned Vera. “It will take more than a pun to spoil that.” “ I’ll give you the first taste, Vera,” said Garnet. “ You deserve something. Pass your cup.” “I will. A c(o)uple of them, if you say so.” “ Drink it quick, dear," said Garnet, soothingly. “It may have the desired effect. Ready, Allie ? Now, Jess! Have some, Garnet? Yes, I will, thank you.” , I think you would have laughed if you had seen those four girls (young ladies, rather), sitting on the floor in their night dresses, their knees drawn up to their chins, and the cups of steaming cocoa in their hands. Vera held her’s up above her head. “ I drink to our adopted grand-parents,” she said, in a low, clear voice. ' Jessie spoiled the effect by saying, reproach- fully: “Oh, why didn’t you do it before? I’ve drunk all mine. Give me some more, Net.” “Are you intending to make any more toasts, Vera?” asked Garnet, gravely. “ Because, if you are, I’ll put some more water on.” . “I have done my did,” said Vera, rather vaguely, and Jessie choked so that her cocoa was spilled all over her night dress, and Garnet had to slap 46 four (Birls at Gottage Gae. her back, saying as she did so: “Get into bed, every one of you. Some of the alcohol must have gotten into Vera’s cocoa, and it’s gone to her head.” Vera held her cup out coaxingly. “Just a drop more ?” she pleaded. “ Not one,” answered Garnet, sternly. “ Come, put yourselves into that bed.” And Vera obeyed, murmuring faintly. ' “ It's too 66d of you, Garnet.” “ \Vhat’s that ?” giggled Jessie, lifting her head from her pillow. “ Say it again, Ve.” “ She’ll do no such thing,” said Garnet, hopping into bed beside Vera. “ Go to sleep, Jess.” “ Say it again, Vera,” urged Jessie. “ Can’t, I’m dead,” said Vera, in 'an exhausted tone. And Jessie was obliged to lie down and content herself with laughing at something she had not heard. “Wont some one get up and open the blind- door, so that the electric light will shine in?” asked Allie. “I would, only I am on the back side.” Garnet was out of bed in a moment. “ Thanks,” murmured Allie. Fifteen minutes later, the silvery, moon-like radiance rested softly upon the four girlish faces lying calm and untroubled on their white pillows. It touched, and lingered lovingly upon Jessie’s small, childish face,'and showed the smile, still MM N “'____',_E 15 ~ jfour otrl s at Giottage Gtty. ' 47 lingering on the red lips. It lighted Allie’s pale, quiet one, beside it. It seemed to hover pityingly over Vera’s pillow, softening the proud lines of the white face, resting upon it, and turning to silver the golden hair. It seemed to change the expres- sion of Vera’s face entirely, making it one of almost childish trust and restfulness. An expression her face never wore in her waking moments. Anyone seeing it, well might think, “That will be the look it will wear in death.” The light, falling on Garnet’s face, betrayed none of the girl’s inward thoughts. The expres- sion seen upon it, was simply one of a contented mind and perfect bodily health. Was there nothing more ? CHAPTER I I I. The next morning the girls were awakened by the sun shining brightly into their room. “ Oh. what a lovely morning,” cried Jessie, jumping out of bed and going to the door that led out on the balcony. ' “ Girls, do come and look. It is perfectly lovely.” And indeed it was. There was a large tree before the house, whose branches almost rested on the' roof. Between the leaves, could be seen the Methodist tabernacle, with its sloping red roof, old fashioned pulpit and rows of white, empty seats The lovely green grass in the park, fairly shone with the rain drops that still lingered upon it, and the leaves of the trees also glistened with them. The birds were singing, and from one of the cot- tages near, came the sound of a piano and the clear, full tones of a woman’s voice, singing. Some children were walking through the park, and the the sound of their voices was music, too. While the girls stood with their arms around each other, enjoying the perfect beauty ofthe scene, the loud notes of a bell startled them. They came from the church near by. Garnet looked at her watch that lay upon the table. firm“ ,__,—_._‘.__‘_C‘—_.‘a____>__— Jfour (Birls at Glottage Gtty. 49 “ Eight o’clock. That bell is for morning prayers; don’t you remember, Jess?” “Yes! they have only a very few minutes for them, though.” “ Ten,” said Garnet, beginning to dress. Vera turned from the door with a softened look in her gray eyes. Somehow or other the whole scene of this glorious Sabbath morning, impressed her solemnly, and the sound of the bell calling all to prayers, added to the solemnity. “ I think I would like to attend an early service like that,” she said, softly. “Well, we will to-morrow morning, if we can get up early enough,” said Garnet. “ I would like it too,” said Allie. “ Umphl I don’t know as I care about getting in with a lot of shouting Methodists,” said Jessie, holding her head down and letting the glorious mass of hair fall over her face. “Just look at that child's hair,” said Vera, standing with her brushes poised above her head, while she gazed admiringly. “ Do let me arrange it for you, will you, Jess?” “ With the greatest of pleasure,” said Jessie, with alacrity, sitting down on her trunk. “ Doesn’t anyone go to the church but shouting Methodists? ” asked Allie. “Yes, of course they do,” answered Garnet. “Jess was only joking. Anyone goes who wants to.” 50 Jfour Girls at Gottage Gity. “I suppose we are all going to the meeting in the tabernacle, aren’t we?” asked Vera, putting a pin into Jessie’s head a little more deeply than she meant to. ’ “ Ow l That’s my scalp you are boring into, Vera,” squealed Jessie, Vera made haste to pull out the offending pin. “ Excuse me, Jess, but you hair is so thick it seems impossible for a pin to go through it.” “ Well, it can, just the same,” murmured Jessie, in an injured tone. “ I am going to meeting for one,” said Garnet. _ “ So am I,” said Vera. “ And I,” said Allie. “ Well, then I suppose I must,” said Jessie. ' “You know you want to,Jessica,” said Vera, lovingly, giving the glossy braids a final pat. “ Much obliged to you, ma’am, for doing my hair,” said Jessie, getting off the trunk and making a low bow. “ It feels splendiferous.” “It feels as it looks then,” said Garnet. “I wish I could do something with my mop.” “ I wonder if we will see the young men at church,” said Jessie. “Such a thing cannot concern a child like you, at any rate,”said Garnet, at which reproofJessie could only reply, lamely: “ Hhl Child your own self.” “ The first thing we had better do,” said Vera, “will be to get some breakfast. ‘Mother’ said . Jfour Girls at Glottage Gtty. . 51 last night that we could use one of the tables in 'the kitchen and some of her'dishes. Suppose you and I go over to the ‘Central House’ and get the breakfast, Net ?” “Very well; and Jess and Allie can clean up the room while we are gone.” _ Vera and Garnet made their way to the hotel in question; just through the Casino and across the avenue. Vera carried the pot ofbeans ; Garnet, the brown-bread. When they returned to the cottage they found the table set, and Jessie and Allie wait- ing impatiently. “ Wonders will never cease,” said Garnet. “We scarcely hoped to find you two young ladies down stairs. Now I’ll make the cocoa.” “ What are we going to have to top off with?” asked Jessie. “Well, we ought to have thought and bought some fruit last night,” said Vera, putting the pot of beans in the center of the table, while Garnet went out into the back kitchen to make the cocoa. “ We can have the rest of the crackers if we feel as if we really need anything, after we have at- tacked that bean-pot,” said Allie. Their first breakfast proved to be a most pleasant meal. The girls were hungry, and beans, brown- bread and cocoa never seemed to taste so good be- fore, even though the table was not set “in style,” and the table cloth was a piece of stiff, brown paper. s2 Jfour (Birls at Gottage Gite. “ Which would you rather do, Al and Jess,” said Garnet, as they rose from the table, “wash the dishes or make the beds? ” _ “ Let us take turns,” said Vera. “ We’ll wash dishes this morning, and they can to-morrow morn- ing.” “ A good idea,” said Garnet. “ Now get to work, for there is no time to spare.” “ Yes, its almost church-time,” said Vera. “ Oh, bother church ! ” muttered Jessie. “Jessie !” said Garnet, reprovingly. “ To tell the truth I don’t care particularly about going myself,” said Vera, putting the plates to- gether. “ But I suppose we might as well go; it will help kill time at all events.” “ Yes,” said Garnet. “ and if we grow tired we can leave quietly.” When the girls were ready they looked each other over critically to see that everything was all right. A fairer sight could scarcely be asked for than they in their pretty summer dresses. Vera was dressed all in soft black, that made her white skin and golden hair look perfectly lovely. Allie wore a pretty, cool looking dress of white and nile- green. Garnet and Jessie wore cream, which was most becoming to their rich complexions and dark eyes. They took their places near the entrance. When the hymn “ Nearer My God to Thee” was .~2.-___,,_,_‘A‘~W—___ Jfour (Birls at Gottage Gity. 53 sung, their voices joined in the harmony, and very sweet they sounded too. Yet, while they sang, their eyes roved carelessly from one part; of the tabernacle to another, and when they saw the tall, bent form of“ Grandpa ” walk slowly up the aisle to one of the front seats, they nudged one- another and smiled. “ Though like a wanderer, The sun gone down; Darkness come over me, My rest a stone. ” The grand melody floated up to the dark dome of the tabernacle, but our girls’ hearts beat calmly and regularly in their bosoms. Allie alone felt a name- less longing. What was it? “ Yet in my dreams I’d be, Nearer my God to Thee. ” Vera’s gray eyes, roving carelessly around, fell upon a pale face lifted to Heaven, and she stopped her singing to gaze in wonder. The blue eyes, that looked as though they knew well what it was to be filled with bitter tears, were full of a soft, radiant light now. The pale lips were slightly parted and quivering a little. “ Nearer, my God to Thee, Nearer to Thee. ” The' face was fairly luminous now and the next moment it was hidden from sight in two small, 54 jfonr Girls at Gottage Gtty. neatly-gloved hands, as the voice of the minister fell on the sudden silence. “ Oh, God, who takest away the sins of the world ” —_— Garnet softly touched Vera on the arm to remind her, and the golden head bowed itself immedi- ately, but not one word of the beautiful prayer did Vera hear. Whose was that pale, radiant face? What deep sorrow had come into her life? The story of it was written in the luminous eyes, the quivering lips, the pale, peaceful face. “What a heartlessly long sermon !” said Jessie, as they passed out from the cool duskiness of the tabernacle to the warm, bright sunlight. “I do think that minister ought to be arrested for cruelty to animals. ” “ What are you looking so sober about, Vera? ” asked Garnet. “Are you thinking of the sermon?” “ There was but one sermon' for me this morn- ing,” replied Vera. “Conscience!” groaned Jessie. “ How many would you have?” “ I don't mean the sermon the minister preached." The girls turned and looked at her wonderingly. “I found my sermon in a face this morning,” was Vera’s answer to the question so plainly asked. “ Why, good-morning, ladies,” said a cheery voice, and “ Cousin Fred” and Erfort Richards sauntered up. ii iii____Ii___ ,‘ ‘ “—_"", ",— Jfour Girls at Gottage Gity. 55 “ A miraculous discovery made, gentlemen, by our friend Vera,” said Jessie. “ What is that?” asked Erfort, calmly taking the bunch of lace flounces, that served as a parasol, from Jessie’s hand and using it for a cane. “ Why, she found a sermon in’a face this morn- ing.” “Cousin Fred ” stepped quietly up to Vera. “Explain the mystery, Jess,” he said. “ Oh, let Vera do that,” replied Jessie. “ Does it seem such an impossible thing—finding a sermon in a face?” asked Vera. “ Well, did any of you notice a lady, a small, slight lady with a pale face. ” “ Oh, did she have on a lovely white lace dress and a hat just one bed of pansies?” interrupted Jessie, turning around with an animated face. The flickering smile passed over Erfort’s face at the question, just touching the lips and lighting the dark eyes for a moment, and then vanished. “ No,” replied Vera, “ the truth is I didn’t notice her dress, but' she had large, blue eyes, and she seemed to be so interested in the sermon, and while they were singing “ Nearer My God to Thee ,” I could not keep my eyes off her face— it was fairly radiant. That woman has suffered — I know she has, but whatever her sufferings have been, she has passed through them bravely and is feeling perfectly at rest.” 56 jfOtll‘ (5M5 at Gottage (lift), “ \Vhy, Vera ! ” Jessie had stood still and was staring at Vera with all her eyes. Fred looked ill at ease and was eyeing Vera askance. Was she one of these religious girls? He had liked her very much the day before, but if she was going to 'be religious it would spoil all the fun. Erfort seemed to be intensely admiring the ' fantastic pattern ofJessie’s parasol handle. “ What’s the matter,Jasmine? ” asked Vera. “ Well, thatisjust what I want to kn nv,” returned Jessie. “ What are you so solemn about?” “ I am not solemn,” replied Vera. “ That is, I do not think I am; and yet, that face as I watched it, made me feel strangely. It somehow made me feel as though I would like to meet with the lady and talk with her.” “ Perhaps you will meet with her,” said Erfort, quietly. m ’ “ Oh, I hope so,” replied Vera, warmly. “ Advertise for her,” said Jessie, tilting her head back and looking at Vera over her shoulder with laughing eyes. “ I’ll do the composing. Ahem! ‘Wanted:—Knowledge of the whereaboutsof a small, slight lady, with a pale face, luminous blue eyes, and a general aspect of one who has fought the battle of life bravely and is now patiently waiting to have her name erased from the great roll-call. The person who will give the desired information will be liberally rewarded.’” Jessie held out a little’ Jfour tBirls at Gottage Ging. 57 hand. “Ten cents, please, Vera,” she said; but Vera did not smile. “But I mean it, Jess. I would really like to know who she is.” “I noticed her,” said Allie’s quiet voice. “ Caesar’s Ghost l ” exclaimed Jessie, in horrified tones. “Jessie !” came from Garnet, in reproving tones. Fred laughed. “You’ll get yourself in trouble, Jess,” he said, glad to have a chance of changing the tone of the conversation. “ llh; is that so? ” retortedJessie, but she said no more, and walked along by Erfort. “ Won’t you come in ?” asked Vera, as they reached the cottage. “ ‘ Grandpa’ and ‘ Mother’ have given us permission to use the front parlor, so we can entertain our friends in there.” Fred seated himself comfortably on the steps and just as he opened his mouth to say, “ Oh, yes, thank you, we’ll stay,” Erfort said, “Thank you, but by the time we get back to the hotel, it will be our dinner-hour, and I suppose it is the same with you, ladies. If you are willing, we will call around this afternoon. Come, Fred.” Jessie skipped into the house, twirled herself around on one foot, made a sweeping courtesy to the door, and said in her most ceremonious tones. “Ah, yes, Mr. Richards, it is our dinner-hour. Come, ladies, we will repair to the dining-room of 58 jfour (Birls at Gottage Gite. Hotel d’ Atherton and—lunch oti‘ fruit crackers and chocolate creams.” And with a laugh, the four girls ran lightly up the stairs to their room. 'm—AA'r CHAPTER IV. Itis the afternoon ofthe next day, and again it is a pouring down rain storm. The girls are in their room. Vera is sitting in one of the rocking chairs, with a volume of Tennyson on her lap. Garnet occupies the other rocker, with a little volume called “ Sea Music,” in her hand. Allie is lying on one of the beds, with one hand under her cheek. and her blue eyes looking steadily at “ nothing.” Jessie is sitting on the foot of the other bed, one of her feet under her, the other swinging rather vio- lently back and forth, between the bed and the floor; her elbow is resting on the foot-board, her cheek is in her hand and her large black eyes are roving restlessly around the room. The exhaustless bag of fruit-crackers, holds its conspicuous place on the table, between Vera and Garnet. and every once in a while, first one little white hand and then the other, of the two readers, wander absently to it, disappear for an instant, and then withdraw itself, (and a cracker). They munch, and read, and rock, and are happy. ' Poor Jessie ! She is very human, and can bear it no longer. The swinging foot goes the least bit higher in its upward motion, and when it comes 6o Jfour Girls at Gottage Gity. down, it brings Garnet’s book with it; then Jessie throws herself backwards on the bed, partly to laugh and partly to escape the angry light of Garnet’s dark eyes. “ You are certainly growing more lady-like every day,” is Garnet’s sarcastic comment, as she stoops to pick up her book. “ Oh, bother l ” retorts Jessie. “ Why don’t the crowd wake up then? I never saw such a dull set! You two girls would be perfectly happy on an island, all by yourselves, if you only had a book of sentimental poetry and a bag of fruit crackers. [ call it downright selfish in you. I don’t know what you call it.” “ Oh, Jasmine, don’t speak lightly of Tennyson. I am reading the ‘ Lady of Shalott’ for the eighth time, and it grows more beautiful every time I read it,” said Vera. “ Ugh ! His poetry is too ancient for me,” replied Jessie. “Ah, that is just the beauty of it. And he expresses himself so prettily. There is only one fault I can find with him.” “ What is that ? ” asked Garnet. “ He makes his women too weak.” “ Physically, intellectually, or morally?” “ Oh, morally. His description of them as they are p/zysically, suits me exactly. Tall, slender, fair and proud l But weak — too weak.” _._~—___.,._.____‘.‘ W ,______~ Q A jfour (Bids at Gottage Gtty. 61 “ They had one rare qualification. They knew how to suffer in silence,” said Garnet, thoughtfully. “ The fate of all true and pure women,” answered Vera. ' “ You always make me think of Guinevere, Vera,” said Garnet, lovingly. “ I am going to call you that.” Vera raised both white hands in horror. “ I beseech you not to, Garnet. Call me anything but that. Why, she was his weakest heroine.” “ She proved herself to be strong at the last, though, Vera. And see what she suffered. Poor woman! She was a very woman in her suffering.” “ Yes, the queen was indeed lost in the woman, in more sense than one. She deserved all the suf- fering she had to endure and she had no one to thank but herself.” “ What’s this all about, anyway,” asked Jessie, who was sitting up on her elbow by this time, and listening to the conversation with interest, as was Allie. “Tell me all about it, Vera, I hate to read, but I like to listen to stories,” and she drew her mouth down and rolled her eyes around, like the baby that she was. “ Well, I’ll tell it to you,” said Vera, closing her book and leaning her head back against her chair. Garnet closed her book, rested her elbow upon it, leaned her head upon her hand, and prepared to listen. Allie and Jessie fixed their eyes upon 62 jlfour (Birls at Glottage Mty. ‘! Vera, and so with the rain falling heavily on the roof, and the wind moaning low among the branches of the great tree, Vera told over, the beautiful story of “Queen Guinevere,” and as Garnet watched the intensity of feeling expressed in the fair face, she thought: “ She does make an ideal ‘ Qvueen Guinevere,’ whatever she may say.” STORY OF “ GUINEVERE.” “I will begin with ‘The coming of Arthur.’ The first four lines are these: “ ‘ Leodogran, the King of Cameliard, Had one fair daughter, and none other child ; And she was fairest of all flesh on earth, Guinevere, and in her, his one delight.’ ” “ Before Arthur came to the isle of Cameliard a great many petty kings had ruled, and were always waging war upon each other, wasting all the land. Aurelius lived before Arthur came, and he fought and died; then came King Uther, and /ze fought and died. But neither of these kings could make the kingdom one. But when King Arthur came, he made a realm and reigned. All recognized him as their head and king. But the island had become such a waste that wild beasts rooted in the fields and' even wallowed in the gardens of the king. And sometimes a wolf would devour a child. King Leodogran had heard of Arthur newly Jfour (Birls at Gottage (tity. 63 crowned, and he sent for him to come and fight the the beasts, altho’ some said that Arthur was not Uther’s son. So, Arthur came. And when he passed the castle walls, Guinevere saw him, but she did not know he was a king. for he did not wear any sign ofhis kinglihood, but was dressed as a simple knight. But Arthur saw and knew her, and fell in love with her on the spot. But he passed on, and pitched his tents beside the forest. And he drove out the heathen, and slew the beasts, and filled the forest, and made broad pathways for the hunter and the knight, and then he went back, for while he was there, some of the great lords and barons were jealous of him, and they colleagued with some of the smaller kings to bring doubts as to his really being Uther’s son, and his right to rule them. They said he did not resemble Uther, and they declared he was not Uther’s son, but Anton’s. But Arthur thought of nothing but Guinevere. He loved her with all the strength of his being, and he was a very strong and noble man. But he went to fight a great battle with these jealous barons and kings, and first it seemed as though they were going to win the fight, and then as tho’ he was to be the victor. But Arthur seemed to he possessed with superhuman strength, and threw all the kings, and the victory was his. He was so overjoyed that he laughed aloud, and he said to his favorite war- rior, whom he loved and honored most: ” 64 Four (BtrIs at Gottage Gttt. “ ‘ Thou dost not doubt me king, So well thine arm hath wro'ught for me to-day.’ ” “ And the warrior replied : ” “ ‘ Sir, and my liege, the fire of God decends upon thee in the battle field: ' I know thee for my king.’ ” “ Then they swore on the field of death a death- less love, and Arthur said : ” “ ‘ Man’s word is God in man: Let chance what will, I trust thee to the death !”’ “ And this warrior was ‘ Sir Launcelot.’ Then Arthur asked Leodogran to give Guinevere to him to be his bride, and Leodogran liked and admired him, but he was doubtful as to his birth. for some declared he was son of Gorlo'is, or else the child of Anton, and no king. Or else base born, so Leodogran didn’t know what to do. He sent out knights to learn the history of Arthur’s life. He consulted with everyone whom he thought would know, but he received but little satisfaction. He sent for the ‘Culeen of Orkney,’ for she was Gorlo'i's’ daughter, and asked her if she were not Arthur’s own sister, but she either could not or would not tell him. At last he sent word to Arthur that he might have Guinevere for his queen. When Arthur received this word he bade Sir Launcelot to ride forth and bring the queen, and he watched him leave the gates. This was in the ¢.—~ __I_.’-_ a .i,‘_\ ,-_ ,_ ___.._ four Girls at Gottage Gity. 65 latter part of April, and in May he returned with Guinevere. They were married, and at the shrine they swore a deathless love, and Arthur said : ” “ ‘Behold, thy doom is mine. Let chance what will, I love thee to the death.’ ” “ And the queen replied with drooping eyes :” “ ‘ King and my lord, I love thee to the death.’ ” “After his marriage, Arthur fought and won twelve great battles, and made a realm and reigned. One of the maidens of the queen’s court was named Enid, and was wife to Geraint. She loved the queen and the queen loved her, and often the queen would deck Enid with her own white hands, and she would be the lovliest lady at the court— next to the queen herself. But now arose whispers ofthe guilty love of the queen for Sir Launcelot, and, although there was no proof of the truth of this, yet Geraint was fearful lest his young wife's honor should be sullied through her great love for the queen. So he went to the king, and, under pretext of desiring to go to his princedom to save it from bandit earls and assassins, he asked per- mission to take his wife and g0 hence, and the king, after musing awhile, allowed them to depart.” (Here Vera stopped to say, “ The poem of Geraint and Enid is beautiful, but I cannot do it justice. It must be read carefully to be appreciated”) Sir Launcelot was ordered by the king to go and 66 Jfour Girls at Gottage Gity. search for the last and largest ofthe eight diamonds that was to be put into the center of the 'crown that was to be presented to the queen. On the morning of his departure the queen was sick, and Arthur asked her if she felt too sick to look upon Sir Launcelot before he went away. She lifted her eyes then and Sir Launcelot read in their depths: “ ‘ Stay wlth me, I am sick; my love is more than many dia1nonds.”’ And he yielded and told the king that the wound he had received a long time ago was not yet healed, and the king looked first at him and then at her and went his way, and then the queen and Sir Launcelot talked together and the queen was in a bitter mood so that he left her and went away angry. He went to the ‘Castle of Astolat ’ where dwelt” “ ‘ Elaine, the fair; Elaine, the lovable, Elaine, the lily maid of Astolat,’ ” “ With her father and two brothers. And when he reached the castle gate the old dumb keeper let him in. And ,Elaine’s father and two brothers greeted Sir Launcelot kindly and hospitably. And Elaine ' when she looked into his face read there the guilty love he had for his queen, but she loved him, although his face was seamed with an old sword cut and he was twice her years, yet” “ ‘ She lifted up her eyes And loved him with a love that was her dea'tlgfi" I____ M.,, four (Birls at Gottage (Mty. 67 “ In the morning he departed with her brother, and while he was standing at the castle gate stroking his horse’s mane, Elaine came down the tower stairs and stood before him. She asked him to wear her ‘ favor’ to the tourney. But he told her that he had never worn a lady’s favor. She begged him to wear her’s, and he said he would and asked her what it was. She told him it was a red sleeve, broidered with pearls, and she brought it, and while he bound it on his helmet he said : ” “ ‘ I never yet have done so much For any maiden living.’ ” “And the words filled her with great delight. And he gave his shield to her and asked her to keep it until he came again. And Launcelot went to battle and it reached the queen’s ears how he wore a red sleeve, broidered with pearls ; and the queen threw herself down on her couch and writhed in agony and called him ‘ traitor,’ for she thought he loved someone else ; and in a little While she heard that it was the ‘ Maid of Astolat.’ And the queen,‘ moved about her castle, pale and proud. But the poor little ‘Lily Maid of Astolat,’ unconscious of how her name was being bandied about at court, stayed in her turret window beside the shield, and Watched for Launcelot’s return. But he did not come for he had been wounded in battle, and Elaine told her father she must seek for him, and he gave 'her a guide saying : ” 68 Jfour oirls at Gottage Gity. “ ‘ Being so very wilful, you must go.” ’ “And as she went, the words kept singing in her' heart, only the last one was changed : ” “ ‘ Being so very wilful you must die.’” “ She found Sir Launcelot in a cave wounded and sick, but her red silk sleeve still fluttered from his helmet, only it was tattered and torn, and half the pearls had been shot off. She nursed him every day, and every night she went to stay with her kin in the city. Launcelot was not always gentle with her, but sometimes gruff, but she bore it very meekly—she loved him so. And Launcelot thought to himself that if he had only met her before she might have made the world beautiful to . to him, but now— ” “ ‘ The shakles of an old love straightened him. His honor rooted in dishoner stood. And faith unfaithful kept him falsely true.”’ ‘ ‘ When Launcelot was better the three returned to Astolat, and Elaine dressed herselfin her most be- coming attire, and came and stood before Launce- lot. She hoped he would tell her that he loved her, but he only bade her tell him what he could give her to repay her for her kindness to him, and he said : ” “ ‘ Delay no longer, speak your wish, Seeing I must go to-day.’ ” l___\Pi Jfour Girls at Glottage (Mty. 69 “Then poor Elaine forgot everything but her love, and she cried passionately : ” “ ‘ I have gone mad. I love you ; let me die.’ " “ ‘Ah, sister,’ answered Launcelot, ‘ what is this!’ And innocently extending her white arms —‘ Your love,’ she said, ‘ your love—to‘be your wife.”’ “ But Launcelot told her he would never marry, for had he been going to he would have wedded earlier in life. Then she implored him to take her with him, that she might ever see his face, but this he could not do. He told her it was not love she felt for him, but ‘ love's first flash in youth,’ and he told her he would always be her friend and knight, but more than that he could not. But she only grew deathly pale, and saying: “ ‘Of all this will I nothing,“ she fell, and they carried her swooning to the tower.” “And her father said : ” “ ‘ Aye, a flash I fear me that will strike my blossom dead. Too courteous are you fair Sir Launcelot, I pray you use some rough discourtesy ’ ' To blunt or break her passion.’ ” “ So, Sir Launcelot stayed over till the next 'morning, and Elaine heard his horse’s hoofs upon the stones, and she'flung open her casement and looked down and she saw that her sleeve was gone 70 Jfour Girls at Gottage Gity. from his helmet. And she knew that he knew she was looking at him, but he did not glance up. ‘ This was the one discourtesy that he used.’ “ So he went away, and Elaine sat in her tower alone, and her father came to her and said: ‘Have comfort; and her brothers came and said: ‘ Peace to thee, sweet sister,’and she greeted them calmly. And she made a song and called it ‘ The Song of Love and Death.’ And when Elaine knew she was going to die, she sent for her father and and brothers, and told them she wanted to write Sir Launcelot a letter, and that after she was dead they must make her body ready for the grave and lay it upon a barge, with the letter in her dead hands, and let their dumb old keeper steer her down the river to the gates of the queen’s palace, and then bear her into the hall and 'set her down among them, and after her long voyage she would rest. And they promised to do as she asked. And so she died. And her two brothers laid her upon the barge, and set a lily in her hand, and spread a silken coverlet over her, and kissed her quiet brow and said with tears : ” “ ‘ Sister, farewell forever. Farewell, sweet sister.’ Then rose the dumb old servitor, and the dead Steere’d by the dumb went upward with the flood—- In her right hand the lily, in her left The letter—all her bright hair streaming down— And all the coverlid was cloth of gold '.___4_fi ___. Jfour (Birls at Gottage Gite. 71 Drawn to her waist, and she herself in white, All but her face, and that clear-featured face Was lovely, for she did not seem as dead, But fast asleep and lay as tho’ she smiled.’ ” “ That day, Sir Launcelot craved an audience of Guinevere, to give to her at last, the costly dia- mond, and she granted it to him; and when she appeared before him, pale and proud, he knelt before her. And'the queen was angry with him, and took her diamonds from her neck and arms, and telling him first to give them to the maid he loved, and then crying that she should not have them, she flung them from her through the case- ment into the water below', and it was then that the barge, bearing Elaine, passed under the window, and when they had brought her in, they gave the letter she held in her hand to Sir Launcelot, and this was it :' ” “ ‘ Most noble lord, Sir Launcelot of the Lake, I, sometimes 'called the Maid of Astolat, Come, for you left me taking no farewell, Hither, to take my last farewell of you. I loved you, and my love had no return, And, therefore, my true love has been my death. And, therefore, to our Lady Guinevere, And to all other ladies, I make moan. Pray for my soul, and yield me burial. Pray for my soul, thou too, Sir Launcelot, As thou art a knight, peerless.’ ” 72 Jfour (Birls at (totta'ge Gtty. ‘Aw- “ Sir Launcelot read it aloud, beside the dead Elaine, and before all the lords and dames, and king and queen, and he told them all her story. Then was the queen happy, for she knew he loved only her, still. And Arthur ordered Elaine’s body to be put into a costly tomb, and for the story of her voyage to be blazoned on it, in letters of blue and gold. Then Sir Launcelot drew apart, and when the queen passed him, she said : ‘ Launcelot, for- give me; mine was jealousy in love.’ He answered: ‘ That is love’s curse ; pass on, my queen, forgiven.’ And Arthur came and put his arm about Sir Launcelot’s neck, and sympathized with and con- soled him in his trouble. He did not know how Launcelot was wronging him. And Launcelot was conscience-smitten and went away and mourned bitterly. I After a while it became known to Arthur' how he was being deceived, and his anger and sorrow were deep. Then the queen fled the. Court, and took refuge in a convent at Almesbury, and had no one with her save a little maid—a novice. ’ And this is how Arthur learned of her sin. Sir Modred hated Sir Launcelot, and he watched him and the queen, and one morning, when the royal ~ party had been a-maying and had returned, Sir Modred climbed to the top of the garden wall, to spy some secret scandal if he might. Sir Launce- lot came by, and seeing him, and understanding why he was there, took him by the heel, as one four (Birls at Gottage Gtty. 73 would pluck a caterpillar, and cast him down. Then he helped him to rise, but the prince went away with vengeance in his heart. Sir Launcelot told the queen, but at first she only laughed, then she grew afraid. They used to meet in the tower, and she begged him to fly to his own land, but he would not. At last, one day they agreed upon a night of parting. It came, and they met in the tower for the last time. But while'they were bid- ding each other an affectionate farewell, Modred brought his men to the foot of the tower and cried out: ‘Traitor, come out; ye are trapt atlast ! ’ And Launcelot rushed out and leapt on him, and hurled him headlong; and he fell, stunned,’and his men took and bore him off and all was still. Then Sir Launcelot and Guinevere bade each other a long farewell. He begged her to go with him to his castle beyond the seas, but she would not. He said his was the shame; but she said, no, it was her’s, for she was a wife and he was unwedded ; so they parted. He went to his own land and she to the convent in Almesbury—fied all night upon the horse he had sat her upon. She told the sisters at 'the convent that her enemies pursued her, and they believed her and took her in. They never knew her name, for she talked only with the little maid. And one night she was listening to this 'little maid, who pleased her with her babbling talk, when there came a rumor wildly blown 74 Jfour (Birls at Gottage Gtt‘}. about, that King Arthur was waging war on Sir Launcelot. Then she thought ‘ With what a hate the people and the king must hate me.’ And she bowed her head upon her hands, and the little maid who did not like the silence said : ’ Late, so late ! What hour, I wonder, now.’ And when the ' queen did not answer, she began to sing a little air that the nuns had taught her. ‘Late, so late.’ And when the queen heard this, she lifted her head and‘ asked her to sing the whole of it to her, and she did, and this is the song : ” “ ‘ Late, late, so late! and dark the night and chill! Late, late, so late! but we can enter still. Too late, too late! ye cannot enter now. No light had we; for that we do repent; And learning this, the bridegroom will relent. Too late, too late! ye cannot enter now. No light; so late! and dark and chill the night! O, let us in, that we may find the light! Too late, too late ? ye cannot enter now. Have we not heard the bridegroom is so sweet? O, let us in, tho’ late, to kiss his feet! No, no, too late ! ye cannot enter now.’ ” “ And after she had sung it she commenced to talk with the queen about the news they had heard. And she told the queen how the king thought Sir Launcelot had the queen in his castle, and that was why he had gone to fight him, and the little maid spoke in loving words of the king —so good, ,__,,-_,.—_‘A,._ 1 a,‘ jfour Girls at Gottage Gity. 75 so kind and noble as he was—until the queen moaned to herself: ‘ Will the child kill me with her innocent talk?’ And in listening to the little maid, she seemed to go back to the time when Arthur had sent Launcelot for her, and ofthe pleasant talk they had had together on their journey, and when she had first seen the king how she had thought him ‘high, self-contained and passionless.’ But while she brooded thus, there rang a cry through the convent: ‘The King!’ And while she sat and trembled, armed feet came through the long gallery from the outer doors. Guinevere threw herself'on the floor and hid her face in her white arms, and when the king came thro’ he saw and stopped before her. Then came silence, and then she heard his voice ”— “ ‘ Liest thou here so low, the child of one I honored? happy dead before thy shame! Well it is that no child is born ofthee : For think not, tho’ thou woulds’t not love thy lord, Thy lord hast wholly lost his love for thee P I am not made of so slight elements; Yet must I leave thee, woman, to thy shame.’ ” “ He paused, and in the pause she crept an inch nearer, and laid her hands about his feet. And he said : ” “ ‘ Yet think not I have come to urge thy crimes, I did not come to curse thee, Guinevere; 76 Jfour (Birls at Gottage Gity. ‘__- I, whose vast pity almost makes me die To see thee lying there; thy golden head, My pride in happier summers, at my feet. And all is passed, the sin is sinn’d, and I, L0! I forgive thee, as Eternal God Forgives: do thou for thine own soul the rest. But how to take last leave of all I loved?” “ Then Arthur goes on to give expression to his deep sorrow, and his last words were: ” “ ‘But hither shall I never come again, Never lie by thy side, see thee no more. Farewell ! And while she grovelled at his feet, She felt the King's breath wander o’er her neck. And in the darkness, o’er the fallen head, Perceived the moving of his hands that blest.’ ” “ Then the queen struggled to her feet and made her way to the casement, that she might look once more upon his face, and she saw him on horseback at the door, and the sad nuns stood near him with a light, and she heard him tell them to guard and foster her evermore. His helmet was lowered so she would not see his face which was like an angels. Then he rode away, and Guinevere stretched out her arms and cried: ‘ Oh, Arthur !’ Then she knew how great for him her love was and she moaned : ” Jfour Girls at Gottage Gity. 77 “ ‘ Is there none Will tell the kingl love him tho’ so late? ’ ” “ Then the little maid and the nuns came in and stood around her, weeping; and she told them that hereafter she would make her home with them, doing all the good she could.” “ ‘ They took her to themselves, and she Still hoping, fearing, is it yet too late? Dwelt with them, till in time their Abbess died. Then she, for her good deeds and her pure life, And for the power of ministration in her, And likewise for the high rank she had borne, Was chosen Abbess there, an Abbess lived For three brief years, and there an Abbess passed To where beyond these voices there is peace.’ ” CHAPTER v. A long drawn sigh from the three girls, as Vera finished, and then silence. Tender-hearted, im- pulsive Jessie was crying, but so softly that the others did not hear her. “ What a sad, sad story,” said Allie, gently. “ Yes, it is sad,” replied Vera, “ but I don’t pity Guinevere one bit.” “ Oh, Vera,” said Garnet, reproachfully. “Well, I don’t. Nor any other woman who proves herself so faithless. Such a grand man as King Arthur was ! ” “ He was too grand,” said Garnet, with unusual bitterness. “ I can imagine just how he looked down on the poor, fallen queen, who lay at his feet with her golden hair sweeping the dust. ‘I, whose vast pity almost makes me die.’ Ugh! If I were a man I would say: ‘ Pity be snooked.”’ “Well, Garnet Dare, I would like to know who is using elegant expressions now!” cried Jessie, taking her handkerchief down from her eyes. “ But what became of King Arthur, Vera?” “ Oh, he fought and won many battles, and at last he was severely wounded, and—and—well, I Jfour (BtrIs at Gottage Glity. 79 can’t just tell you where he went, but while he lay wounded on some beach, talking to one of his knights, a barge sailed slowly up to him, in which were seated three beautiful queens. They took Arthur into the barge and he sailed away with them to some beautiful, warm country.” (“ Oh, he died,then, did he?” interrupted Jessie, wickedly). Allie laughed softly and even Garnet smiled, but Vera replied, innocently : “ No, he didn’t die. There was one of the three beautiful women taller and more lovely than the others, who smoothed his forehead and — ” “ Hh! I bet a dollar bill he up and married her before he’d known her a month. Just like a man,” said Jessie, with infinite contempt. “ Oh, Jasmine; what do you know about men?” asked Vera, with a laugh. “ Hh! all I want to.” “You know what Josiah Allen’s wife, Samantha, says about the men,” said Garnet. “ Or more par- ticularly about her’s. ‘Josiah looked good to me. Men are nice creeturs, but you don’t want to see too‘ meny of them to once; likeways with wimmen.’ ” “Well, Samantha gets about right about our not wanting to see ‘ too many of them to once,’ ” said Jessie. “ l’ve never seen any man yet who looked good to me.” “ That’s strange,” said Vera, in mock surprise. “ Such an antiquated fossil as you are.” 8‘0 Jfour Girls at cottage Gift. _ asked Allie, innocently. “ Superfluity ofwords, my dear,” reproved Jess. grandly. “ A fossil is necessarily antiquated.” Then she buried her head in the counterpane, to escape the cracker that Vera threw at her. ' “ Doesn’t Mr Richards look good to you, Jess?” “ I think he is real nice looking.” “ Oh, he’s nice looking enough,” said Jessie, carelessly, “ but he’s stifl’er than a ram-rod.” “ Say, girls,” said Vera, suddenly, “ do you think it is wicked to go to the theatre P” Up sprang Jessie on the bed, and gazed at Vera with big, shining eyes. "’ What! ” she exclaimed. “ What did you say,Vera Earle ?” “ I asked you,” repeated Vera, .“ if you thought it was wicked to go to the theatre.” “ Well, not much,” replied Jessie, emphasizing her words with a pound of her little fist on the foot- board. “ But I would think it mighty wicked ifI couldn’t go.” “Jessie, will you please stop using that word ?” asked Garnet. " ‘ ‘What word?” Knowing all the. time what it was. “ Mighty. You know it is not only unladylike, but actually wrong.” “ Yes, that's so,” with unexpected meekness- “ I won’t use it again.” “ But do you think it is all right to go? ” asked Vera. Jfour (Birls at Glottage (Mty. 81 “Jessie has already answered for herself,” said Garnet. “Icertainly think there is not the least bit of harm in going to a theatre, unless the play is immoral. That, of course, would be apt to have a dangerous effect on one’s mind, just as immoral books have. But, as for there being anything wicked in the ordinary theatre, I cannot see the reason.” ' “You don’t think it is wicked, do you, Vera ?” asked Jessie, suddenly. “ What a question, Jess,” said Garnet, with a low, amused laugh. “ When we all four go to one every Saturday afternoon almost as regularly as Saturday afternoon comes.” “ Hear Net,” said Jessie. “Anybody would think we were female Caesars.” “Well, we go to the theatre on an average of once a month,” retorted Garnet, whether we are female Caesars or—or male Caesars,” she added, rather lamely. “ Yes, you bet we do,” said Jessie, “ if we do have to get seats in ‘ nigger heaven.’ ” Garnetlooked most indignant. “The idea !” she exclaimed. “ I wouldn’t say such a thing even in joke, ifI were you, Jessie.” “An’ sure, I’m not saying it in joke. I’m in deadly airnest, be jabbers. But you do not answer me, Vera. Have you changed your mind about going to the theatre? Give me your handker- 82 four Girls at Gottage Gite. chiefs, girls, I shall need them if she tells me she does.” “ N—o,” replied Vera, “I don’t know as Ithink it is wicked really, but—” “ N—o—o—o,” mimicked Jessie. “ What do 'you mean by your prolongation of the vowel O, Vera Katherine Earle ? You appear to be in doubt. Answer me ; but don’t you dare to tell me you think it is wicked to go to the theatre, or I’ll throw the pillow at you,” and she raised it threateningly. Then she turned suddenly to Allie. “ What are you looking so solemn about, Miss Hunt? Are you going back on the theatre too ?” “ Don’t look so savage, Jessie,” replied Allie, smiling; then she added, softly : “ I don’t know as I would miss such a great deal if I did go back on it. Do you think I would? ” “ Well, of courseI can’t answer for you,” replied Jessie, laying down the pillow with a curiously dis- appointed look on her little face. “ But I know I wouldn’t care to live if I couldn’t go to the theatre — t/zat’s sure.” “ Oh, Jasmine l” exclaimed Vera. “ Isn’t that a little strong? ” “ No, ” replied Jessie, drawing her rosy lips to- gether in a little, straight, determined line. “ Nota bit too strong to express my feelings.” . “ Well,” said Vera, “I /zave noticed this one thing, when I have come from the theatre lately four (Birls at (Iottage Gtty. 82, I have feltjust a little dissatisfied. At first I laid it to the play—I thought it must be they were not as good as formerly, but I found that that couldn’t be the reason, for--—you remember the last one we went to, Margaret Mather in ‘Joan Of Arc?” ( Both Garnet and Jessie nodded; Jessie very em- phatically.) “ Well, of course, that was a grand play and it was grand acting, but if you’ll believe me, girls, I actually felt that same dissatisfied feel- ing that I had felt before. Now, what made me? ” No one answered. That Vera, or any one else, could feel in that way after seeing such a grand thing as that play was, was a thing perfectly in- comprehensible to Jessie. Garnet’s deeper mind could not find a reason. Vera was honestly troubled. She could not answer the question of her own rest- less heart. Only Allie’s pale face flushed; she looked at Vera with eager blue eyes, and once or twice her lips trembled as though she would speak, but it seemed as if she could not and in a moment ' more it was too late, for a low knock sounded on the chamber door, which all recognized as being “Mother’s,” and then the door was softly pushed open and the fair, wrinkled face peered in. From force of habit the girls looked past “ Mother” and smiled at each other to see the fragile hand holding “ Grandpa” back. But he caught a glimpse of the pretty picture in the chamber, and it did his dean 01d eyes good. i S4 Jfour Girls at Gottage Gtte. “ Come right in, ‘ Grandma,’ ” cried all the girls together, “ and ‘ Grandpa,’ too.” And Vera and Garnet drew their rocking-chairs forward. “ Well, well; thank you, thank you,” replied “ Mother,” in her eager, trembling tones. “ Ionly came up to tell you — now Mr. Atherton, you had better not come in," she broke offto say to “ Grand- pa,” as he was pushing eagerly forward. “ Oh, yes, do let him come,” pleaded the girls, and “Grandpa” thanked them with a happy smile. “ Well, I declare! ” repliec “ Mother,” secretly pleased, but still dictatorial, “ then come in and sit down' here side of me. As I was saying, children— you don’t mind my calling you children, do you ?” (“No, no; certainly not,” murmured the girls.) “Vv'ell, as I saying, I only came up to tell you—— oh, last night Mr. Atherton and me heard you sing- ing. It was you, wasn’t it?” The girls thought for a moment. “ I’m pretty sure it was you,” Went on “ Mother,” “because it sounded as if it came from this room. First you went w-a-y up'and then you came w-a-y down, and kind of quirked your voices once in a while, and you said something about ‘neater, on neater’—guess the song must have been about clean habits or something. Wa’n’t it you? ” _ Well it was for the dear old s'ouls that their eyes were dim and the twilight deepening. No one could answer except Allie. Jfour Girls at Gottage (titty. 85 “Yes, ‘ Grandma/we were singing and the piece you refer to was ‘Juanita,’ ‘ Nita, Nita, Juanita.’ We’ll sing it for you sometime if you want us to. “ Oh, will you? Well, that will be nice. Me and Mr. Atherton love to hear young people sing. That must be a pretty piece; but do you know ‘Nearer My God to Thee? ’ and ‘Jesus, Lover of My Soul? ’ ” Oh, yes, of course, the girls knew them. “Well, somehow or other I like them two old pieces better than anything else. Would you just as lief sing one of them now?” Oh, yes; they would sing them both. The dusky twilight gathered, the rain pattered softly against the glass doors, the wind moaned drearily among the huge branches of the tree, but the 'beautiful girlish voices rose above both rain and wind: “ Nearer, my God to thee, nearer to thee.” Vera could see, shining clear and pure through the coming darkness, the pale, illuminated face she had seen and watched in the tabernacle, the pale lips quivering, the blue eyes raised to Heaven. “Jesus lover of my soul.” Vera still saw the face. Was the peace that she saw written upon it, the “peace that passeth all understanding ?” “ While the nearer waters roll, while the tempest still is nigh.” “ Mother’s ” wandering hand sought “Grandpa’s,” folded upon the arm of his chair, drawn close to her side, and there it rested. After 86 jfour (Birls at Gottage Gity. the sweet voices ceased, it was very quiet in the room. “ Mother” broke the silence. “Ah, that is a beautiful hymn ; a beautiful hymn.” And “ Grandpa ” murmured : “ Aye, a beautiful hymn.” “ Yes, Ithink it’s pretty,” said Jessie, pleasantly, but carelessly. The tone more than the words, jarred on Vera. Why was it? Only because she had been feeling for a few minutes strangely happy—peaceful, glad. “ Me and Mr. Atherton have morning prayers,” went on “ Mother.” “Wont you join us? ” Jessie made a comical face, which no one saw. The others answered at once: “ Oh, thank you; we will be very happy to.” “ You might sing _ those pieces again,” said “ Grandpa,” timidly. _“ Yes, we will,” answered Garnet, kindly. “ Hadn’t we better have a light,” queried Jessie, just here. “ Oh, ‘ Mother,’ " whispered “ Grandpa,” “ you didn’t tell them.” “Land, I forgot l ” replied “ Mother.” “ Them pieces put it all out of my mind. We came up to tell you, children, there are two young gentlemen down stairs, and they wanted me to ask you to come down.” Jessie, on her way to the stand for a match, gave Vera’s shoulder an expressive nudge. 1four (Bins at Gottage mty. 87 “ I’ll go right down and tell them you’re coming." went on “ Mother.” “ Come, Mr. Atherton l ” At the door she turned and asked, anxiously: “You wont forget to-morrow morning, will you?” “ No, we wont forget.” “ My conscience l ” exclaimed Jessie, as soon as “ Mother” and “ Grandpa” were out of hearing, “I wonder if those two young men are blessed with a good stock of patience.” “ This is a good test for it if they are,” said Vera. “Wonder if they heard us warbling?” said Jessie. “ Omit'king our voices, as ‘ Mother ’ says.” “I can imagine just how the two young men have spent the last half hour,” said Garnet, stand- ing before the glass and brushing her curly hair. “Fred has walked not less than a couple of miles. l’ll wager he has kept up a continual march round and round the room, with his hands in his pockets and a most portentious frown on his usual sunny brow, while Mr. Richards has been sitting calmly’ in his chair with his legs crossed, watchinghis uneasy friend with a half amused, half superior smile on his mobile countenance.” “Well, get away from that glass for half a minute, will you?” said Jessie, giving Garnet a gentle poke with her comb. “Somebody else wants to look bewitching as well as yourself.” “ Oh, certainly,” replied Garnet, in her politest tones, moving away accommodatingly. 88 four (Birls at Gottage Gite. “ Now, get hufly," said Jessie, in injured tones. “You are the queerest girl, Net Dare. Nobody can say anything to you but what you get mad.” “ Have I expressed my displeasure at anything?” asked Garnet, haughtily. “ Yes, you have,” snapped Jessie. “ If you didn’t in words, you did in actions, and I’d a good sight rather anyone would give me a good blowing up and be done with it than to be so plaguey polite with their ‘ Ce-r-tainly, Ce-r-tainly,’ and Jessie imitated Garnet to perfection. “ I find that people who are so dreadfully polite can be about as ugly as they make ’em. And it isn’t politeness, anyway, it is nothing but sarcasm, and you know very well Net Dare, that sarcasm is indicative of low breeding—” “Jessie Dare!” interrupted Garnet’s low voice trembling with passion. “Just wait until I finish, will you?” said Jessie, breathlessly. “ I don’t mean low breeding exactly, but it shows very poor taste. Doesn’t it, Vera?” Vera, who had been first craning her neck to look in the glass over Jessie’s head, and then dodging under and around her raised arms, hardly knew what to say to this sudden appeal, so she “ avoided the question.” “ I say we had better go down to the parlor before your cousin wears the carpet entirely out in his impatient walking.” ' "It is cm'taz'nly time to go down,” remarked Jfour Girls at Gottage Gity. 89 Garnet, meaningly, and Vera could not help thinking, as they went slowly down the stairs, how utterly unlike the two sisters were, and wondered if Garnet conducted herself in just the right way towards Jessie. ’ Their two natures were so entirely opposite: Jessie, quick, passionate and impulsive, yet, oh, so lovable and generous to a fault; Garnet, just as passionate, but possessing a wonderful capability of governing her passion—proud, reserved, not easy to be understood by even her nearest and best friends. Vera often wondered at the wonderful amount of self-control contained in the small body. CHAPTER VI. When the girls entered the parlor they found the state of affairs to be just as Garnet had predicted they would be. Fred was walking the floor with his hands in his pockets, and Mr. Richards with his hands ditto, sat in a chair and watched his friend with a smile half amused, half superior. Fred turned around as the door opened and made a low bow. _ “ Ah, most delighted to see you, at last, ladies,” he said, not trying to conceal his vexation. ' “Our aged friends are rather swift, are they not? It would not be a bad idea to suggest a telephone to them, would it?” “ Don’t be disrespectful to old age, Fred,” said Garnet, reprovingly. Fred turned and looked at his cousin. “You are not in love with the reverend, are you Net ?” “I am not very far from it,” replied Garnet. “They are two very lovable old people, and should be treated with all possible respect, as in- deed all old people should.” Garnet was quite serious. Fred gave a low whistle and cast an expressive look at Jessie. Jessie laughed. Jfour (Bids at Ctottage'ttitig. 91 “Net is on her high horse to-night,” she said, carelessly. “ I advise you to let her alone, Fred. She is unapproachable when in the present state.” Garnet took her seat on the sofa beside Vera. and Vera saw a look of pain on her face, but the small mouth was set in one narrow, stern line. Vera looked at Jessie reproachfully, but Jessie, not dreaming of such a thing as Garnet’s feelings being hurt by 1m, answered the look with a smile. “ She is nothing but a child,” thought Vera. “ She is—” “Miss Earle, I have some pleasant news for you,” said a quiet voice at her elbow. Vera gave a start and looked around. “ Pleasant news?” she repeated, smiling. “ Tell it to me at once, please. I do love pleasant news.” “Oh, don’t Iwish I was pleasant news,” said Fred, longingly, from the other side of the room. Vera laughed and' blushed. Mr. Richards looked at Fred gravely for a moment, then turned to Vera. “Then I am deeply thankful,” he said, in a low voice, “ of having the power to make you happy. Can you guess what it is ?” Vera’s red lips parted in a smile, showing her lovely white teeth.' “ Oh, do not ask me to guess, Mr. Richards. I forfeit my right of being a Yankee when I try to do that. Please tell me.” “ I have found your sermon." 92 ' Jfour (Birls at Gottage Gtty. l Vera looked perplexed. “ My sermon, Mr. Richards? What do you mean?” “ Have you forgotten so soon ? I have discov- ered who the owner of the ‘ speaking face ’ is.” Vera’s face flushed with pleasure. “ You have, really, Mr. Richards, and so early? Oh, how nice that is ! Who is she? Where does she live? How did you find it out?" And Vera sat up very straight and clasped her white hands and looked at Mr. Richards with shining eyes. Jessie came hurrying over, with Fred close behind her. “ What’s the matter, Vera?” she asked, seating'herself in Garnet’s lap and putting one arm around Garnet’s neck, and Vera noticed even then, how closely and lovingly Garnet held her little sister to her. ' “\Vhy, Mr. Richards has really discovered who my ‘ lady of the tabernacle,’ is,” she replied. “ Will it be possible for us to become acquainted with her?” she asked, turning to Erfort. “ I think so,” he replied, gravely. care to.” “ If I care to l ” repeated Vera. “ Certainly I will care to, for she has the loveliest face I ever saw.” “ How in the deuce did you find out about her, Er ? ” asked Fred, his astonishment getting the better of his politeness. Erfort smiled. “ I will explain that later, I will tell you who she is first.” “ If you Jfour (Birls at Gottage (Mty. 93 “ Oh, do hurry,” cried Jessie, impatiently. “Who is she?” “ She is a laundress.” If he had said: “ She is a murderess,” the effect would have been scarcely more startling. The girls opened their eyes, in surprise. “ A laundress? ” repeated Vera, faintly, and Jessie exclaimed: “Well, I never l ” while Fred, I am sorry to say, gave vent to the elegant expres- sion: “ The divil l ” and then begged the ladies’ pardon in the same breath. Allie alone seemed unaffected by the startling announcement. “ She is none the less a lady for all that, is she?” she asked, softly. “ It certainly cannot make her face any the less lovely in its expression, Vera.” Perhaps for the first time since' he had met with her, Erfort Richards looked Allie squarely in the face, and his look was most complimentary, although Allie did not notice it. Vera pulled herself together at Allie’s question. She was ashamed of herself for expressing any sur- prise or consternation. “ Certainly she is none the less a lady,” she said, a trifle haughtily. “ Her vocation can make no difference to her character. I was only a little surprised, that is all.” It was one of Vera’s characteristics to hide her disagreeable feelings, of whatever nature, under an assumed haughtiness ofmanner. It had always 94 four Girls at Gottage Gitiz. i proved a perfect shield from any unpleasant remark. If she had been told that there was danger of people misjudging her—that they might think her proud, and even heartless; not willing to acknowledge herself in the wrong when she knew herselfto be, she would have been utterly surprised. And yet there were many—very _m'.iny—who found it impossible to love her, simply because they did not understand her. She knew herself, but, alas, others did not, except a very few, who had learned her for themselves after years of friendly intercourse, and who loved her through and through for what she was. Strange to say, Mr. Richards thus early understood her perfectly; as well after three days as he would have done after three years. But to poor Fred she was a perfect enigma. First she was a flameof fire— all light, laughter and fun; then she was an icicle —cold, proud, stately as a queen; repelling those about her with a glance, a gesture. He had called her a conundrum to Erfort, the night before, but said he shouldn’t “ give her up.” “ But you haven’t told us where she lives,” said Garnet. “ She lives in a little cottage back of Circuit avenue,” replied Erfort.' “ Her name is Hood—- Charlotte Hood—and she is a widow.” '‘Any children?” asked Jessie. s‘ One; a boy.” Jfour (Bids at Gottage (Mty. 95 “I suppose he trots around with the basket,” said Fred, carelessly. “No. She goes for the clothes herself and takes them back again.” “The lazy little beggar!” said Fred. “The kid, I mean,” he explained, “to let his mammy do all the work. I must say she shows very poor judgment in bringing her child up, for all of her angelic expression of countenance.” ' “ We can very easily come to know her,” said Garnet. “Perhaps we can get her to do a little work for us.” Jessie came very near betraying the whole party by saying: “It will be prescious little work we will be putting out.” _ “ Will you take us to her cottage to-morrow, ifit is pleasant? ” asked Vera. “With pleasure,” replied Erfort. Now I will tell you how I found her out. I went to walk this morning—although it was rather a wild one. I went down towards the beach, and, while Iwas standing under the tower watching the waves, I noticed a lady coming towards me. That she was a lady, despite the big basket ofclothes she carried, was plainly evident. When she was very near to where I was standing, an unusually fierce gust of wind struck her. It knocked the heavy basket up against her, her foot somehow slipped and before I‘ could barely start forward to help her she had 96 four (Btrls at (tottage Gtty. fallen to the ground. I assisted her to rise, and was glad to find she had not hurt herself. I had a very short conversation with her, during which she told me about her boy, and—well, that’s all.” Fred laughed and rose from his chair. “ So you were out mashing the washwoman while I was sleeping the sleep of the just. Business must have been dull if you couldn’t find any one better to flirt with, Er, my boy. Come, Jess, I’ll teach you that new step I spoke to you about. The old people won’t hear us.” “All right,” cried Jessie, gleefully, slipping ofi‘ Garnet’s lap, and, while Garnet and Allie watched the “lesson,” Vera turned to Erfort with shining eyes. _ “No, that was not all, Mr. Richards. There was more to it than that.” “ Yes ?” he said, questioningly; but Vera saw the deep red just showing through his dark cheek, and she went on boldly. “You helped the poor woman home with her basket.” He did not deny it; he only smiled. “ Why didn’t you tell us? It was a generous, manly act.” “ Thank you, Miss Earle.” Vera looked at him for a moment— at the dark, tender face, with its thin, sensitive lips and dreamy eyes, and in that moment she saw beneath the sur- four oirl's at Gottage diity. 9'7 i I respect you; face into the heart. She held out her white hand and he grasped it firmly. No words were spoken by the lips, but the warm hand-clasp spoke vol- umes. It said for each: “ I understand you, and ” and then they, too, turned their attention to the “lesson” in progress. “One, two, three and a /mp. One, two, three and a [2015. One, two, three. One, two, three. One, two, three. One, two, three. One, two, three and a' 1015,” counted Fred, as he guidedJessie lightly, but firmly around the room, and Jessie, with her brilliant little face all flushed and glow- ing with the heat, and her big black eyes sparkling with the fun and excitement, now giving a little gasp of delight at getting the correct step, and now one of dismay at making a mistake and bringing one of her little feet down squarely upon Fred’s. Vera laughed softly. “ Jessie’s face is full of lights and shadows, as it were,” she thought, and turned to Erfort to express her thoughts in words- He was watching Jessie with the peculiar flicker- ing smile he seemed to reserve for her alone. “ Hadn’t you better rest awhile Jessie?” asked Garnet, just then. “ You will get too tired.” “ Oh, yes, in-just-one-minute,” gasped Jessie. “ l’ve-al-most-got-it.” “ You’ve gotten it pretty bad, haven’t you?” asked Vera, laughing. “ Come here and sit down immediately,Jessie Dare ; you look ready'to drop ! ” 98 Jfour (Bids at Gottage (tite. Fred gave Jessie a parting whirl, which brought them both near the sofa. She dropped panting between Garnet and Vera, and commenced to fan herself with her handkerchief. Mr. Richards gravely offered her his bicycle cap. She took it. with a smiling “ You are too kind, Mr. Richards.” “ Miss Earle,” said Fred, “ wouldn’t you like to try a waltz with me ? I’ll whistle.” “ Some time I will, but not now,” she replied pleasantly. “I want to ask you and Mr. Richards a question.” “ I’m your obedient servant,” said Fred, drawing an ottoman to her feet and seating himself upon it. “ What is your question ? I am all attention.” “I want to ask you if you believe in theatre- going,” she said, gravely. “ Oh, for pity’s sake, don’t start that up again.” said Jessie, impatiently. “ We had it going for about an hour up stairs.” “ Well, I have your opinion, now I want the gentlemen’s. Fred had already pretty well expressed himself in his usual way— a low whistle. Vera turned to Mr. Richards. He had drawn a magazine from his pocket, and was turning the leaves rapidly. “ Oguite a coincidence,” he said, as Vera turned to him. “ I was reading only this afternoon an article in here—let me see —who was it by? Some I divine or another—ah, here it is. Will one of you jfour (Birls at Gottage Gity. 99 ladies be kind enough to read it aloud? It may give you a new idea. It is upon the question of theatre-going,” and he passed the book to Vera. “You read it, Net,” said Vera, passing it on to her. ' Garnet took the book, which was “Munyon’s Monthly Magazine,” and read: “ ‘ The Common Sense View of the Theatre. By Rev. Madison C. Peters. Extracts from a sermon preached Sunday morning, February Ist, 1891. That they use this world as not abusing it—I Cor. vii: 3t. The theatre owes its origin to religion. In Greece, India and China the drama was originally a relig- ious ceremony, and it was intended to promote religion. In the course of time the drama ceased to be a religious ceremony, and became a work of art.’” “ ‘ Every student of church history knows that the modern drama sprang originally from the church. In the dark ages the priests putthe whole of theology on the stage, and in this way, the rude and ,unlettered mob that gathered on Saints’ days, were taught in an effective way the truths of religion, so that in the Christian era, the first theatres were the churches, and the first actors the priests.”’ “‘But secular competition grew apace, and in 1378, the Dean and Chapter of St. Paul’s Cathedral, petitioned Richard II to stop certain ">0 Jfour (Birls at Gottage Gite. dramatic perform lnces, which were being gotten up in London, outside the church. Why? Because the Cathedral clergy of St. Paul’s had spent so much money on church scenery and costumes in- side the Cathedral,’ they were eager to crush all secular competition.’ ”' “ ‘ In Elizabeth’s reign the secular drama had grown so popular that a preacher exclaims: ‘ Woe is me ! At the play-house it is not possible to get a ' seat, while at the church vacant seats are plenty.’ The clergy did not object to the principle ofacting. or because the play was immoral, except when it satirized the drunken and smoking rector. Nor did the clergy object to the play because it hurt the people, but because it pleased them. They groaned when the people shouted.”’ “ ‘ God has implanted a dramatic element in most of our natures, recognized and cultivated it in the Bible. It is not something built up outside of ourselves by Thespis and fEschylus and Sophocles and Euripides and Terence and Plautus and Seneca ‘ and Congreve and Farquhar and Corneille and Alfieri and Goldsmith and Sheridan and Shakes- peare. Man is not responsible for the dramatic element in his soul, but for the perversion ofit.”’ “ ‘ If vacant seats are so plenty in the church, whose fault is it? The human mind is the same in the pew as in the theatre. The world suffers more from too little dramatic power in the church than Jfour (Birls at (tottage Gtty. 101 from too much outside of it. A preacher asked Garrick, the tradge'dian : ‘ Why is it you are able to produce so much more effect with the' recital of your fictions than we do by the delivery of the most important truths? ’ ‘ My lord,’ said Garrick, ‘ you speak truths as if they were fictions; we speak fictions as if they were truths.’ And, wherever to- day, all Christendom through, there is a man in a pulpit with graceful gestures, modulated voice, elegant expression, appropriate emotion and grace- ful action; wherever you find man as natural and impressive, as audible and interesting as the actor, you will find a full church. Let the preachers work at the people with the same power, intelli- gence and will as the actor is obliged to work at the public; depend upon it their achievements will be in proportion. The actor does not grumble be- cause the people wont come to the theatre. He says: ‘ I am to blame.’ People don’t come to church because they are not interested. Let us learn from the actor how to read and how to infuse life into our service.’” '1? a? 'K- a 1- * ¥ “ ‘ Other things beside religion are good. Dickens’ works are eternal arguments against in- justice, and in writing novels he Was as well em- ployed as in preaching the gospel. Mendels'shon, by his sublime compositions, did better serve the w: 1four Girls at Gottage Gity. world than going out as a missionary to China; and Shakespeare served the world and his Maker better as a dramatist than as a bishop, preaching sermons that nobody wanted to hear. The arts and sciences must go hand in hand with religion and morality.” “ ‘ The charge that religion is scoffed at on the stage is false. Hypocrites and charlatans occa- sionally furnish subjects for its characterization. The cause of religion does not suffer when its spurious representatives are held up to ridicule and contempt.’ ” “ ‘ The theatre is here to stay. Reform is the note of the future. Eliminate the bad. Encourage the good. The shameful postures, the female attire, or rather the lack of it, the compromising attitudes, the silly things accepted, the commonplace persons admired and commended—thunder as much at these as you will. Let ridicule, sarcasm and denunciation exhaust their armories upon these abuses, these positive evils.’ ” “ ‘ Can I go to the theatre?’ asks the Christian. I answer: ‘ If you can. Let every man be per- suaded in his own mind.’ Refuse to do or go where your conscience forbids, but refrain also from condemning your neighbor, whose conscience may not require him to walk in the same path you have marked out for yourself.’ ” “ ‘All actors are not moral. All preachers are not moral. There are bad men in all professions- Jfour 6M5 at (tottage Gity. 103 There are men and women on the stage whose characters are as spotless and their lives as benefi- cent as any in our churches. Crimes are com- mitted on the stage; so they are in the Bible. Goodness and badness are put in opposition in both books and plays.’ ” “ ‘ Charles Lamb once wrote a play for the stage, and he went to see it enacted. The play was con- demned, and loudest hissing came from the gallery where Charles Lamb sat, and the audience looked and saw that it was the author of the play'who was hissing his own production.”’ “ ‘ If at last we are compelled to look back upon a wasted life, we ourselves will be the severest critics. And remember this, when you go out of this world and your life has been wasted, no encore can ever bring you back to re-enact it. ‘As the tree falleth, so it lieth !’ Your character in the last moment will be your character through all eternity. Mr. Palmer, the London actor, dropped dead on the stage while quoting the words of the play : ‘ O, God, is there another and better world ?’ Ido not know what will be your exit, but in that hour there will come before you all that you have been and all that you might have been. 0, men and women of the theatrical profession, to whom these words may come, prepare for the closing scenes of this life, when the footlights will be the burning world, the orchestra the resurrection m4 jfour (Birls at Gottage Gtty. trumpets, the tragedy the upheaval of a world of graves, and the closing scene the dispersing of the audience to their everlasting homes of gladness or sorrow. ’ ” CHAPTER V I I. “ Well, what do you think of that?” asked Fred. “ Doesn’t that advocate theatre-going ? ” He addressed the whole party, but looked particu- larly at Vera. She answered him. “It does, and it does not. You see it says: ‘Can I go to the theatre?’ the Christian asks. I answer: ‘ Ifyou am. Let every man be persuaded in his own mind.’” “Then I take it that one can go to the theatre and not be in danger of everlasting punishment, so long as their conscience tells them they are all right,” observed Jessie, blunt, but to the point. “ I don’t think my conscience will trouble me much. Isn’t that the idea, Vera ?” ’ “I suppose so,” answered Vera, thoughtfully. “But what I don’t understand is w/zy it should seem wrong to some and not to all. I know some good people — Episcopalians and Universalists — who go to the theatre every week of their lives, as regular as clock-work; and they not only go to the theatre, but they go to balls and dance until 2 o’clock in the morning. Sundays they go to church all day and enjoy going too, and their lives are all that seem good and just, as they should be.” 106 jfour (Bids at Gottage cum. “ Well, those two denominations believe in hav- ing a good time,” interrupted Jessie. “ It’s easy enough to belong to t/zcz'r church.” “ No,” argued Vera, “ but they are really good people; much better than some Baptists that I know. They stay at home from all such places from one year’s end to the other. If a member of t/zeir church went to such places their names would be crossed off the church book. How is that? Aren’t one class just as good as another? If it is right for people of one denomination to go, why isn’t it right for those of another ?” Vera seemed to appeal to Mr. Richards. He answered her. “I can only use the same quotation you used a moment ago: ‘ Let every man be persuaded in his own mind.’ Speaking of different denominations, I look at it in just this way. Now take the Bap- tists for instance— and just here let me say, their’s is the beliefI have the most confidence in, although I have no word to say against any other—their church laws are different from most other‘denom- inations. Anyone who enters that church should enter it with their eyes open. They should be ready and willing to accede to the requirements they make. Now, the Baptists do not think that he who has professed himself ready to try to live a Christian life, ought to find pleasure in the enjoy- ments that the world offers him. You know the Jfour Girls at Gottage Gite. I07 Bible tells us that we cannot serve both God and mammon. Either we must hate the one and love the other, or vica versa. I do not think that it really means that we are to hate in the ordinary sense of the word; but I think it means that we ought to find so much pleasure in serving God and keeping our hearts so full of love for Him, that there will be no room in them for anything else. It is simply impossible for us to live in this beauti- ful world and not love the things that are in it, and God does not expect or wish us to do so, or he would not have made it' so beautiful. It is not that the ordinary pleasures ofthe world are so wicked, but there is danger of our thinking so much of them, that we have no time to think of the giver of every good and perfect gift. That is where the sin comes in — in thinking too much of the world and not enough of God. Now, just for a test. Please do not think me impertinent, for I do not mean to be so, but I want to ask you all a question. How often during the day do you stop to think how good God is to you?” Not an answer, but over each fair face a burn- ing blush commenced to spread. Fred felt half ashamed and half angry. How long since had Er turned preacher? “ I, myself,” continued Erfort, after waiting a moment, “ freely acknowledge that I have seldom, in former days, given it a thought. Our days are 1four (titls at (Cottage diity. 1c>9 there and enjoying yourself, 'and coming away feel- ing light-hearted and happy and friendly towards everybody— your enemies as well as your friends —- just because you have been having a pleasant time, as there is in going to church and hearing, or trying to hear, a sermon that is so dry that it makes you thirsty to listen to it, and so you look about the church and fasten upon any one, or anything, to take your mind up while you’re obliged to be there. Just as like enough your eyes will chance to fall upon some one whom you detest and that some one has a hat on that you do not detest —quite the contrary— and you sit and hate and admire all in the same moment. Then, while the minister is praying his everlastingly long prayer, you get tired and take another eye-tour around the room, and you see some one else, whom you know to be the most deceitful person in the community, bent almost double in her seat, with her hand on the pew in front of her and her handkerchief up to her eyes, looking as meek a Moses. You come out of that church feeling cross and hateful towards everybody. Now, which is the worst — to go to a place that makes you feel happy, or to one that makes you feel as ugly as sin ?” “ Well, Jess,” said Garnet, “ it seems to me that the fault, as you represent things to us, lies in the minister. This article here says : ‘If vacant seats are so plenty in the church, whose fault is it? 110 four (Birls at Gottage Gity. The human mind is 'the same in the pew as in the theatre.’ If the ministers made their sermons as interesting as the actors their plays, there would be no danger of the people becoming disinterested and staying away from church. The fault is in the minister.” ' Erfort raised his eyes from their thoughtful study of the carpet. “ No,” he said, gravely, “the fault is not in the minister: it is in our own sinful hearts.” “Oh, get out ! ” cried Fred, springing from his hassock and commencing a rapid walk around the room. His fair face was flushed, his blue eyes full of doubt and trouble. “ You'll get me as nervous as —as a woman, with your funereal talk. Let’s drop 'it and go at something a little more lively. Jess, will you let me try to mesmerize you?” “Oh, dear! Anything, Fred, to put a stop to this talk. I am as bad as you —it makes me nervous.” Erfort leaned back in his chair, and his face resumed its usual “ society ” expression. Vera looked troubled; she wished they would talk longer on a subject that was becoming interesting to her. Garnet rose from the sofa; it was difficult to tell what Izer feelings were; She crossed the room with a busy, bustling air that she assumed at times, and that sat very prettily upon her, and when she reached the door she turned and said: “I’ll be down in'a minute,” and disappeared. Jfour (BtrIs at Gottage Gity. 111 “I bet she has gone after the cocoa pot,” whis- pered Jessie to Vera. Sure enough, in a few minutes Garnet’s voice was heard: “Open the door, please.” Both gen- tlemen sprang to open it, and in walked Garnet, both arms laden—the alcohol lamp, the cocoa pot, matches and bottle. Fred raised both hands in mock surprise. ~ “ What’s coming ! ” he exclaimed. “A tea- party?” “The next thing to it,” answered Vera, taking the books, etc., from the table. “ Garnet will give you some cocoa that will make you long for more.” And she did. A pleasant hour was spent in talking, laughing, and drinking the delicious bev- erage, and then the gentlemen left for their hotel, promising to call around in the morning and take the girls to the home of the poor laundress. CHAPTER VIII. “ Girls,” said Garnet, about 7 o’clock the next morning, as they all four lay in bed, trying hard to feel like getting up, “ I’ve made a discovery.” “Found a bedbug ?” asked Jessie, yawning; “ or a cockroach ? ” she added, pleasantly. Allie, who was mortally afraid of both pests, gave a little gasp and turned quickly over on her side. “Allie has,” went on Jessie, taking a wicked delight in her friend’s terror. “Is it crawling up from the foot, Al ?” she asked, concernedly. Poor Allie squealed outright, and commenced to squirm, at which Jessie, immensely tickled, laughed immoderately. “ For shame, Jessie,” said Garnet, indignantly. “ Come and get into bed with us, Allie.” ‘.‘No you don’t,” said Jessie, catching hold of Allie’s night-dress, as she was about to gladly accept Garnet’s invitation. “ You just stay here with your mother, young lady, and'—” here Jessie took a firm grip of Allie’s arm —“ she’ll keep the nasty little bedbugs and cockroaches away—yes, she will.” “ Oh,J-e-s-s-i-e, p-l-e-a-s-e,” almost sobbed Allie. Jfour (Birls at Gottage Gtty. 113 “Oh, no, I won’t plague you,” said Jessie, quickly contrite. “But what a little goose you are, Al. You should control yourself; pray, con- trol yourself. Doesn’t that sound dignified enough to come from the lips of my senior over there? Hey?” _ “Stop your nonsense, Jessie, and let me talk,” said Garnet. “Oh, certainly. We will listen to the lips of wisdom now. Attend! Please proceed to article I., Miss Dare, as they say at the Normal,” and Jessie cuddled herself down beside Allie and assumed a very attentive expression. “ Now for your discovery, Net,” said Vera. “Well, I have just discovered that this cottage is the same described in ‘ Megda,’ where she and ‘Del’ and ‘Laurie ’ came that summer, and this must be the very room they occupied.” “ Eureka!” cried Jessie. “ Garnet, my dear sister, what a great head you have.” “ I’ve read that book,” said Vera. “Which character did you like best?” asked Allie. “ ‘ Laurie.’ ” ‘ “So did I.” “I liked ‘ Megda ’ best,” said Garnet, “ though ‘ Ethel’ was lovely.” “And I liked ‘ May’ best,” said Jessie, emphat- ically. “ She was the bravest one of all, for she "4 Jfour Girls at cottage cm. was brave enough to live and die an old maid {Of the sake of someone else, and that is what I call a brave deed, z'n-deed.” The girls laughed. “ Oh, wait until you read the sequel to the book,” said Vera, “perhaps ‘ May’ will be married in that.” “Is there a sequel to ‘ Megda,”’ asked Allie. “ Not yet, but there is going to be.” “An’ phwere did yez get the news, Vera?” asked Jessie. “I advise you to stop practicing that dialect, Jess.” said Garnet. “ You’ll use it some time when you don’t mean to.” “Well, I’ve just gotten so I can talk it pretty well,” said Jessie. “ I want to surprise Prof. Ban- croft when I begin lessons again in the fall.” “ What time were our young men going to call?” asked Vera. “ Dear me, if I hadn’t forgotten every word about them,” exclaimed Garnet, springing up in bed. “ Get up, Vera, quick, before I step on ,7 you. , “ Oh, crawl over the foot-board, Net,” yawned Vera. ' “You lazy ghost, take that,” and Jessie threw a pillow at Vera, and, for a wonder, hit her. “ Rewenge,” muttered Vera, and arming herself with all three pillows, commenced a vigorous attack on the enemy. ' Jfour (Birlsat Glo'itage Gtty. IIs “Are we going to have any breakfast this morn- ing?” asked Garnet, calmly. _ “ You might know Net had struck upon her feet,” cried Jessie, in smothered tones, for Vera was bury- ing her in pillows. “ She thinks of her little ‘ stummick ’ the first thing. Oh, horrors, Vera, let me up. I never thought before,” she said, sitting on the edge of the bed and pushing the hair out of her eyes, “ what poor ‘ Desdemona ’ must have sufl'ered, and what an old brute ‘ Othello ’ was.” “ Oh, do hurry, girls,” pleaded Garnet. “ We certainly won’t have time to get breakfast and get cleaned up.” ’ “Well, you and Vera go out and buy the stuff, and Al and I—won’t cook it,” said Jessie, with a hideous grimmace. “ That’s true enough,” said Vera. “ We don’t want you to. You and Al clear up the room and Net and I will get the breakfast.” “ What are you going to give us?” asked Jessie, anxiously. “ \Vhat have you down on the bill of fare for to- day’s breakfast, Net?” asked Vera. Garnet referred to her paper with the gravest face imaginable. “ Egg omelet,” she replied, briefly. “ Egg omelet it is then,” said Vera. “And I’m the girl that can make it.” “Conceit,” saidJessie, giving Vera’s golden braids that were hanging down her back, a loving pull. 116 four (Birls at Gottage Gite. “ Ready, Vera?” asked Garnet. “Almost; just as soon as I twist my hair up. You are the quickest little thing, Net.” Garnet smiled. She stood ready with her round sailor hat and soft red shawl on. Vera twisted up her beautiful hair, put her hat on, threw her peasant cape over her pale blue wrapper, and announced herself ready. “Let us go to the market around the corner,” said Garnet, as they went out of the house. “ Anywhere,” replied Vera. “ How many eggs will we need ?” “ Well, to tell the truth, three will be plenty, but I hate to ask for so few, don’t you ?” ' “ Yes, but I guess they are used to all kinds of orders. Will you ask ?” “ Yes,” Vera answered, rather reluctantly. “ You have the pocket-book, haven’t you ?” “Yes.” The order was given, and the clerk didn’t even smile, as the girls were very much afraid he would do. As Garnet took out her pocket-book to pay him, the clerk asked with a smile: “Are you cashier ?” ‘_‘ Yes,” answered Garnet. “And you,” he added, turning to Vera, “are the teller ? ” ~ (luick as a flash came the answer. tell(h)er what to do.” “ Yes, I Jfour (Btrls at Gottage Gltty. H7 “ Poor Vera l The next instant her face flushed crimson at what she had done. Made a pun before an entire stranger! She felt as though she would like for the floor to open and swallow her. The clerk laughed heartily, and so did Garnet—she couldn’t help it. Without another word Vera took Garnet’s arm and walked haughtily out of the market. Hiding her embarrassment under a haughty demeanor, you see. “. Don’t tell the girls, Net,” she said, imploringly, and 'Garnet promised she woulcln’t. . Vera’s omelet was delicious. Jessie said, teas- ingly : “ It was a bit thin,” to which Vera retorted : “ Lave it alone, t/zz'n.” At 9 o’clock the gentlemen called. “ We had better go right down,” said Mr. Richards. “ She may be too busy to see us if we wait.” The girls put on their hats, took their parasols, and then they started. After fifteen minutes walk Mr. Richards said : “ Do you see that smoke curling up among those trees ?” Yes, they all saw it. “ Well, that comes from her cottage, and there it is.” ' It was a very small, very poor, but very neat looking cottage, painted brown. A neat wash house stood a few feet from it, and it was from this that the smoke was rising. Thinking that 118 four (Birls at Gottage Gtty. they would probably find Mrs. Hood in this build- ing, our party walked up to the door and looked in. The fire was burning, the boiler of water was heat- ing over it, and the tubs and a large basket of ’ clothes stood in the middle of the floor, but there was no one there. “ She must be in the cottage,” said Erfort, speak- ing in a low tone, though he did not know what made him, unless it was because it seemed so quiet around there. There were some tall pine trees on one side and at the back of the cottage, and they gave the place rather a lonely look. The rest followed Erfort as he went towards the half-opened door, but just as he raised his hand to knock, a low, moaning sound, fell on their ears. Erfort dropped his hand, and they all bent their heads to listen. Another low, moaning sound, and a suffering child’s voice: “ Oh, mamma ! ” the very tones of which drew the quick tears to every pair of bright eyes outside. “ Mamma knows it, darling, and she is so sorry for her baby-boy. There, lay your head on mamma’s shoulder, prescious, and she will sing to you.” The voice was low, sweet and clear. “What shall mamma sing, dear?” “The pretty one, please.” “ ‘ Nearer, my God to Thee, Nearer to Thee. E’en tho’ it be a cross That raiseth me. ____I____— —, Jfour Girls at (tottage (tity. H9 Still all my song shall be, Nearer my God to Thee, Nearer my God to Thee, Nearer to Thee.’ ” “Oh, that is pretty, mamma; please sing the next verse. It— O—h l ” It was a sharp cry of pain, wrung from the suf- fering child. It cut into the listeners’ hearts like a knife, and before Erfort realized what he was doing, he had started forward and pushed the door wide open and they all looked into the room. It was a small, poor room, devoid of almost every comfort, except one or two rockers, a small case of books, and a clean, white bed. On this bed lay a little form; they could just see the outline of it, that was all, for the mother was bending over it in speechless agony and her arms were clasped tightly around it. “ M-a-m-m-a l M-a-m-m-a l ” “Yes, yes, darling, mamma knows. Oh,' my Father in Heaven, if you would only let me suffer for him ! Robbie, prescious, look at r'namma. Don't you feel her arms aroundyou? Oh, my baby, speak to me.” Erfort could bear it no longer—he rushed into the room and the others followed. What they saw they will never forget to their dying day; and Fred, careless, light-hearted Fred—put his hands up to his face and sobbed like a baby, for his no four (Btrls at Gottage (tttt. ' thoughtless words of the night before came back to him with cruel force. There lay the “lazy little beggar,” “the kid,” “ the boy who let his mammy do all the work;” oh, how the remem- brance of his words wrung Fred’s really tender heart. He lay there, his little slender form writhing in his mother’s arms, his little arms clasped tightly around his mother’s neck, with the small hands griping each other convulsively. His golden head was on her shoulder, but his face was towards them, and it was'terrible to look at—deathly white and distorted, with the blue eyes rolled up until nothing but the whites were seen. But, thank God! the fearful struggle was as short as it was severe; if it had not been, the child could never have lived through it, and the stifl'ened form nestled back into the mother’s arms. Without turning her head, but keeping her cheek pressed against the golden curls, the mother laid him gently down upon the pillow, where he lay with closed eyes and panting a little. The mother’s hand brushed softly the pretty hair, all wet with the cold sweat of agony, back from the white forehead. “My baby, my baby !” was all she said, but the tones of her voice spoke volumes. It was a strange position for our young people to be in, and their voluntarily putting themselves into it was still stranger, but they never thought of that. Jfour (Birls at (tottage Gity. 121 They thought of nothing but what was before them, and the mother seemed unconscious of their very presence for some moments, and then she raised her head from the pillow and looked at them, but none of the agony that had been so plainly expressed in her voice was visible in her _ face. It was pale—very pale—but as pure and shining as at the tabernacle.' She smiled at Mr. Richards, and held out a thin, work-worn hand to him. He advanced to the bedside and took her hand with all the manly grace he was capable of, and that was by no means little. “ I hope you will pardon our intrusion, Mrs. Hood,” he said, with deep respect. “ We did not mean it as an intrusion. The ladies were anxious to see you, and as I knew where you lived I came with them — my' friend and I. We — we heard the sounds outside and it made us all feel so badly that ,we could not refrain from coming in. Will you let me make you acquainted with my friends ?” “ Certainly,” answered Mrs. Hood. “ I shall be most pleased to meet with them, and no apology is needed.” “ Thank you,” replied Erfort, and then he intro- duced the girls and Fred. Robbie opened his eyes just as Jessie stepped forward to shake hands with his mother, and they fell immediately upon her face. He smiled and put up his poor little hand. m Jfour Girls at Gottage Gtty. “ What a pretty lady,” he said. They all smiled, except Jessie, and she leaned over him and kissed him with a tender light in her beautiful eyes, and a softened look upon her bril- liant face, which made her, for the moment, per- fectly lovely. “ If I could only have her picture as she looks now,” thought Erfort. It may seem strange, but from the moment that Jessie left that humble little cottage her heart was changed, although she scarcely realized it at the time, and, indeed, not for long days afterwards. God has wonderful ways of changing the human heart, and there are scarcely two hearts that expe- rience this change alike. I once heard a minister —an earnest-hearted, zealous young man—give the following experience: “I had a friend, and this friend was one of the happiest christians I ever knew. He was conversing with me one day, and he said: ‘Oh, I shall never forget the day that my heart was changed—really changed. I had been feeling tired and discouraged, and I went into my room and I knelt down and prayed. I prayed with all my heart for light, and even while I, prayed the light came. It filled my heart and it seemed as ifit filled the whole room. It was fairly poured upon me. Oh, I felt so happy! It went through my whole being. I cannot begin to tell how glad and happy I felt.’ When I heard him Jfour (Btrls at Gottage Gity. 123 tell me that, my heart sunk within me, and as'I wentfrom him, I said to myself: ‘ I never had such an experience as that, yet I have thought myself consecrated to the Master’s service for a long while. Is it possible that'I have been all along mistaken? Has my heart never been changed? Why did not the change come to me as it did to him? Iwas unhappy. I tortured myself with vain thinking and vain questioning, and then I made it a subject for prayer and the truth was revealed to me. Sel- dom do two persons experience religion alike. To one the light may come suddenly, as it did to my friend, though I do not think many are blessed with such a manifestation of the Spirit, ‘and to another it may come gradually, yet, thank God! none the less surely.” . lhave so often thought of this. It answered a question that my own heart had often asked, and never before found an answer to. The light did not burst suddenly upon Jessie. Indeed, the only feeling she was sensible of, was an indefinable one. Her heart felt softened, but she thought it had been touched with pity for the suffering she had seen. So it had, but God was the one who had filled her heart with this pity. He, who is all wise, took this way of manifesting Himself unto her. He had commenced to work the change in her heart and He never makes any mistakes. Mrs. Hood followed our young people to the 124 ;lrour (Birls at Gottage (Wy. door. She told them that her boy was nine years old and had been a cripple and a great sufferer for four years. Robin was on a vessel one day and had fallen down the cabin stairs. He had never walked since, and his suffering had been terrible. Vera could not keep her eyes off the pale face. There was something about it that completely fas- cinated her. It may seem amusing. but all she could think of when looking at it, was a waxen taper. There seemed such a soft luminance upon it. Was it to be the taper that would light the path that Vera’s young feet were to tread on their way to the “ better country?” Was this the light that would ~guide her out of the night of doubt and un- certainty into the blessed day of light and glory? As they were about to leave the cottage, Mrs. Hood caught the longing look in Vera’s gray eyes. What made her guess at the desire that was in the girl’s heart, and that she longed to express but did not dare? She could not tell ; Vera could not tell; no one can tell-—only God knew why. “You will come and see me again,” Mrs. Hunt said. No one heard but Vera, to whom the question was addressed,' and she answered, quickly: “I will.” No one talked much going home. Nothing had been said about any' work being done—it had com- pletely slipped their minds. As they approached Jfour Girls at Gottage Gity. 125 their cottage, Fred, looking up, caught a glimpse of “ Grandpa ” and “ Mother” standing a little back from the half open door and peering out at them. He turned to the girls with a laugh. “ Our aged friends act as if they had a mortgage on you, young ladies. They seem to keep their eyes upon you.” Jessie stopped short with a little cry, looked rapidly and anxiously into each face, opened her lips as if to speak, and then walked on. They had all stopped when she stopped and looked at her, ' but Allie seemed to be the only one who had understood. She had answered Jessie’s look with one full of self-reproach. Fred commenced to sing in a low voice : “ It stopped — short— never to go again, And the old man died.” “What was the matter, Jess ? ” asked Vera. “ Have you forgotten something?” “We’ve all forgotten something,” replied Jessie, with a gravity that was something entirely new for her, and as she spoke she looked at Vera and then towardsi“ Grandpa” and “ Mother,” still stand- ing in the middle of the kitchen. Vera turned to the gentlemen. “ Thank you very much for your kindness in taking us to Mrs. Hood’s,” she said, in her stateliest manner. 126 four (Birls at Giottage (Wt. The gentlemen took the “ hint” at once, although Fred, as he said to Erfort afterwards, felt as though he had had cold water poured down his back. “ Wouldn’t you like to go down to the beach and watch the bathers?” asked Erfort, as they turned to leave. “ The band gives a concert every day at 11,, you know.” Vera’s red lips curled. answered, somewhat curtly. that pastime.” (Fred felt the cold water again.) “ You object to the bathing ?” asked Erfort, quietly. “ No,I object to the bathers,” answered Vera, quickly, and then her fair face flushed scarlet. “ Good-morning,” she said, haughtily, and with- out another word she turned and entered the cot- tage. Garnet came to the rescue with her sweet, womanly tact. “Vera is greatly opposed to the manner of bathing here, and I must confess there are some things about it that we all find to object to. “ Will you come in ? ” The gentlemen declined the invitation, for they knew it had been given only out of politeness, but they asked and obtained permission to call in the evening and accompany the girls to the “band concert.” When the girls entered the cottage they found Vera standing before “ Grandpa” and “ Mother” “ No, thank you,” she “ We do not care for ,—_—<'~ —..,-._____— Jfour (Birls at Gottage Gtty. 127 with her hat in her hand, talking very earnestly. She turned as they entered. ' “I was telling ‘ Grandpa’ and ‘ Grandma ’ how sorry we were for forgetting what we had promised them last night," she said. “ We will sing to them now if they would like to have us, won’t we ?” “ Certainly,” they answered. Vera sat down in a chair by the window and drewJessie down into her lap ; Garnet took the chair at the other window; Allie seated herself near her; ‘f Grandpa” and “ Mother,” each took a large, old fashioned rocker, and then the girls sang to them: . “ Nearer My God to Thee,” “Jesus Lover of My Soul,” “Just As I Am,” “ I Hear Thy Welcome Voice,” “ There Is Rest For The Weary,” “There Is No Name,” and “ There’ll Be N0 Parting There,” and “ Grandpa” and “ Mother” sat and listened to the beautiful voices, and as they listened their aged hearts were filled with tender memories of the dear old “ long ago” when they had sung those same sweet hymns, with voices just as fresh and clear and strong, and before their dim eyes there seemed to rise a picture of the Home they were travelling towards and fast approaching, the beautiful “ Home of the Soul” where there is indeed “ rest for the weary.” CHAPTER IX. “ Come, Jessie,” said Vera, about 7 o’clock that evening, “ you won’t be ready when the gentlemen call for us, if you don’t ‘roughe’ yourself, as ‘ Sairey ’ says.” ' ' Jessie was lying on the bed with her hands up over her head and her large black eyes fixed upon the ceiling. “It doesn't make any difference whether I’m ready or not when they call,” she replied, coolly. Vera turned and looked at her; so did Garnet, who was kneeling before her trunk looking for some lace to sew on the neck of her dress. Allie was standing before the glass, rather listlessly combing out her brown ‘ bangs.’ '‘ It won’t make any difference whether you are ready or not,” repeated Vera. “ Why—why not?” ' “ Because I’m not going.” _ Vera sat down on the edge of the bed, with her handkerchiefin one hand and her cologne bottle in the other, and stared at the'composed face on the pillow ; but Garnet, after that one backward glance, bent over her trunk again, without a word, but her 130 four (Btrls at Gottage Gity. “ Oh, Jessica, Jessica,” she cried, swaying her body backward and forward on the bed. “Oh, Jessica, Jessica l” That was all she could say, and she laughed and laughed. No one could hear Vera Earle laugh very many moments and not be actually obliged to laugh too. Allie leaned against the wash-stand and laughed until she held her sides. Garnet, after a stern, but unfailing eflbrt to keep her face straight, soon lay full length on the floor and spread both arms out in utter abandon- ment to her mirth, and Jessie, after looking very indignantly at all three, threw her arms around Vera’s waist and over they went on the bed together. No one tried to restrain her merriment, and peal after peal of laughter rang through the cottage. “ Grandpa” and “ Mother” in the back kitchen, taking their quiet cup of tea together, heard it, bent their heads to listen, and looked at each other and smiled. The sound did their old hearts good. Vera was the first to sit up and dry her eyes. She leaned against the foot-board, utterly ex- hausted. “You make me laugh like that again, Jessie Dare,” she gasped, “ and — and —you’ll wish you hadn’t.” ' ' “ For pity’s sake, what did I do?” asked Jessie, with big eyes. “ I didn’t do anything.” “ No, I should think not,” retorted Vera. “I Jfour (Bids at (tottage Gite. 131 hope when you are twenty-seven you will be as indignant at having a ‘ parcel of men ’ around as you are at seventeen. Oh, Jessie, such scorn l ” “When she’s twenty-seven,” remarked Garnet, rising from her undignified position on the floor, “ she’ll be just as indignant over not having even one man around.” “Oh, she will, hey?” muttered Jessie, taking the pillow into her arms and hugging it up to her. “ Don’t you be so sure of that, Miss Dare.” “Jess and I are going to keep ‘old maids” hall, aren’t we, Jess?” said Allie. “Well, you better believe we are,” answered that young lady. “ Let’s try it to-night, will you, Al ?” “ With pleasure,” replied Allie. “Oh, don’t you want to go out either, Allie?” asked Vera, rather anxiously. " No, I would prefer to stay at home with Jessie.” Vera turned and looked doubtfully at Garnet. Garnet’s face was flushed and her large, black eyes sparkled angrily, but she tried to speak calmly. “ Well, I must say, Jessie, you are behaving very childishly.” “Well, why?” flashed out Jessie. “I’m not going anywhere I don’t want to go, am I ?” “ It seems not,” replied Garnet, still holding her ’temper under control. “ But I think you are doing a very foolish thing.” Jfour (Bins at Gottage Gity. 133 deep in all things —had no sympathy with her sister’s light changeable one. She knew this, and didn’t think to ask herselfif Jessie knew it. Jessie irritated Garnet, and Garnet irritated Jessie. How often are two members of the same family blessed with entirely different natures, and when they come in contact— as they must necessarily do many times a day ——they cannot help clashing. “Yes, tell them we’ll be down in a jifl‘,” said Vera, hurriedly and thoughtlessly. Jessie leaned over the railing. “ Hm l ” It was the most delicate little cough imaginable, but Erfort and Fred, walking slowly up and down in front of the cottage, heard and looked up' quickly. They saw a little white face, lighted by two bril- liant black eyes and crowned with a mass of dark hair, peering eeriely down at them through the branches of the big tree. They raised their hats, but neither spoke. “ Vera says she and Net will be down in a jifl‘.” O, wicked little sprite! The tone was low, but, alas! distinctly audible to the three girls. Vera held her fleecy fascinator over her golden hair and gazed with horror-stricken eyes out on the balcony ; Garnet sank, speechless on a chair. Jessie looked at them over her shoulder from where she stood, but she did not venture in. “ Hurry, girls ; they’re waiting,” she called, softly. '34 Jfour Girls at Gottage Gtiy. Vera gave her one reproachful look and disap- peared. Garnet rose, and if a glance could have sent Jessie over the railing, she would immediately have gone headlong. “ Oh, Jessie, that was too had,” said Allie, as the door closed. “ Oh, phooh ! no it wasn’t either,” replied Jessie, stepping through the door and seating herself on the bed in her favorite attitude. “ They ought to be taken down a peg once in a while — especially Net.” “ I will make you an apology, Vera, if that will do any good,” Garnet was saying in smothered tones, as the two girls hastened down the stairs. She was extremely angry, but as ever, her voice was under her perfect control. “ Oh, never mind,” saidVera, with a little laugh, “ the child didn’t mean any harm.” “ Child!” repeated the low, thrilling voice. “ Do you call a girl seventeen years old, a c/zild P” “Jessie is a child in every sense of the word,” replied Vera, and then they stepped out into the lighted street. Fred and Vera walked together, and Erfort and Garnet. The two former chatted gaily and seemed to be becoming friends fast, but with Erfort and Garnet, conversation lagged. Here were two natures very much alike. Neither possessed par- ticularly brilliant conversational powers, but both Jfour (titls at Gottage Gtt‘}. 135 were deep thinkers and earnest students of both “Mother” and human nature, and yet Erfort did not understand Garnet any more than she under- stood Jessie, while Garnet, with the natural keen perception that all women are blessed—or cursed with—I know not which to call it—understood Erfort thoroughly. Her mind was with the late scene in the chamber and she could not tear it away, although she knew as Well as though he had told her, that her com- panion was putting her down as one very odd and reserved, if not actually stupid. Poor Garnet! Her proud heart beat in hot rebellion against such judgment, but try as hard as she would, not one thing could she think of to say, and her only reply to his remarks—few and far between—were monosyllables, cut off short and “ spinster-like,” from her small, tightly closed lips. “What a difference between the two sisters,” thought Erfort, as he spread her gossamer for her over the seat; and declining with a smile the one quarter inch of board that offered him beside her, leaned carelessly agaiifslt a tree and waited for the concert to begin. “Jessie is as bright and sparkling as the lovli- est waterfall, and as brilliant. She is all life and fire; but this one —” and he looked down on the small, dark head that was almost touching his knee, with a smile, half amused, half disdainful. 136 four (Birls at (Iottage (Mty. The face he could not see, for it was turned com- pletely away from him, but if he had seen it, it- would have told him nothing. It wore its usual look of calm, undisturbed repose. Not one trace upon it of the fierce rebellion going on in the poor, passionately beating heart. Even he, who prided himself on his self-control, could not have conceived of such wonderful power as Garnet possessed. After an hour—during which Garnet had not spoken, except when directly appealed to by one of the others—Vera proposed going home. “ Oh, by the way, Miss Vera,” said Erfort, as they turned to go. “ I saw Mrs. Hood this after- noon.” “ Did you ?”. asked Vera, eagerly. “Yes, and I saw something too,” put in Fred, eagerly, for he feared a “ serious turn ” to the con- versation. “ Guess what.” “ Oh, don’t ask us to do that,” said Vera. “ We are not mind-readers.” “ No; but that was just what it was,” was the rather vague reply. Both girls turned an inquiring face towards him, and Erfort, stepping forward, gravely put his hand on his friend’s forehead. “ Not particularly hot,” he remarked, gravely, as he fell back again. “No peculiar sensation there, is there, Freddie ?” ' Fred had turned in surprise, but at Erfort’s ques- tion he broke into a merry laugh. “ No,” he ,_—~_, - ,‘_ -__—', Jfour (Birls at Gottage mitt}. 137 answered, “but really there is a mind-reader, or clairvoyant, or fortune-teller, or whatever she calls herself— here.” . For the first time that evening the ice of reserve in Garnet’s face, broke, and she looked up at Fred with flushed cheeks and shining eyes. i “ Where are her rooms ?” she asked, almost breathlessly, and then she flushed scarlet and drew timidly back at the teasing smile on Fred’s hand- some face. “ Would you be guilty, my sedate cousin?” he asked, with mock solemnity. Garnet did not answer, but Vera said, with sudden dignity : " How can you ask such an absurd ques- tion,” and her red lips curled scornfully. “Another cold bath,” thought Fred, shrugging .his shoulders as though it were a literal one. “ There is something quite wonderful about these mind-readers,” said Erfort, thoughtfully. “The power they possess is really remarkable.” “ Did you ever go to one ?” Vera asked. Erfort smiled at the scorn expressed in her voice. “I must plead guilty,” he replied. “ What! Do you really believe that anyone on this earth can see into the future?” “ I do not say that. One who calls himself simply a ‘mind-reader,’ does not pretend to see into the future; he sees only what is written on one’s mind, and I most certainly do give them credit 138 four (Birls at Gottage Gity. for much power in that line. I can’t say thatl have the least faith in these fortune-tellers though.” “Well, by Guy ! ” exclaimed Fred, with more force than elegance ; “ some of these fortune-tellers get things pretty near right, anyway.” Vera laughed softly. Fred’s boyish remarks seemed to please her greatly; the “ slang” he fre- quently indulged in did not offend her, somehow or other-it was always given with such boyish bluntness. “ Giving yourself away, Freddie, my son?” said Erfort, gravely. “Oh, well, I don’t care. I’m not ashamed to. have you all know that all of the simpletons are not dead yet. I had my fortune told last summer.” “ Who told it?” asked Vera. “ Some old hag of a gypsey.” “Oh, tell us about it,” pleaded Vera. They had by this time, reached the cottage. “ Shall I go in for chairs?” asked Garnet. “ Oh, no, don’t,” said Erfort, quickly. “ That is, not for Fred and I. We will sit on the steps.” “The post is good enough for me,” said Fred, perching himself on top of it. Vera sat down on the upper step and leaned her head against the railing of the piazza. Garnet sat on the second step and leaned her elbow on Vera’s lap and her head on her hand. Erfort took the lowest step. Jfour Girls at Gottage Gity. 139 “Proceed, my brother. You have the floor— or post,” he said. “Well,” began Fred, “I’ll tell you just how it was.” ' “ Beg pardon, one moment, Fred,” interrupted Erfort. “ Don’t forget to tell us about the future Mrs. Travers, for, of course, the sibyl described her to you.” Fred laughed, blushed and stroked his mustache. “ Don’t put me out at the start, Er,” he said; then proceeded : “ There were a party of us staying in the country and one day we all went for a drive. There were about ten of us. Well, the first thing we knew we came right out onto a gypsey encampment. Just as the fellow who was driving turned around to speak to us about it, an old woman with gray hair, brown, wrinkled face, and the sharpest pair of black eyes I ever saw, came hobbling toward us from her seat by the fire. She was the typical gypsey fortune-teller, toothless, weird and wild. She even had the usual red blanket pinned across her shrunken shoulders. ‘ Ah, let me tell your for- tune, pretty maid,’ she mumbled, to Lena Rivers, the prettiest girl of the party. ‘ It’s a lovely fortune you have, my dear, and it’s a brave, handsome, dark-eyed sweetheart you have across the seas who is coming home soon to marry you.’ Well, it did beat the Dutch that she should hit that right, 140 your (Birls at Gottage Gity. for you know Lena Rivers, Er? Well, you know she was engaged to Le Hazelton, and he was over to Germany on business for his house at the time. Well, of course, Lena blushed and smiled and the other girls looked at each other with their eyes ' wide open, and their mouths, too, for that matter, and the old hag, seeing, of course, that she had made one, said : ‘Just cross my hand with silver, pretty Agnes, and I’ll tell you when the wedding day will be.’ \Vell, you know, Er, Lena is awfully pretty and sweet, and all that, but, between you and me, she hasn’t any too much sense—er—not exactly that—but— er— well, she is just like a lovely little wax doll, you know, and when the old woman said that, she drew her hand away and tossed her head and pouted those red lips of hers and said petulantly: ‘ Now you are wrong. My name isn’t Agnes, and I don’t want you to tell me when the wedding day is to be, for I know it myself.’ Well, of course the girls giggled and the boys —I mean young men —laughed outright. I verily believe that made the old witch mad, for she said, quite fiercely: ‘Beware, proud lady, your wedding day is set, but—will it ever dawn?’ ' I must confess the tone in which she asked this dreadful question almost gave me. the creeps, and as for poor little Lena, she turned as white as a sheet and squealed outright. The old witch promptly followed up her lead. ‘ I see a proud, Jfour (Birls at Glottage mty. 141 dark-eyed beauty on the other side' of the ocean, by whose side he often lingers, and whose white hand often rests in his. They—’ But just here Lena almost threw herself into the old woman’s embrace. ‘ Oh, don’t, don’t,’ she cried. ‘ Don’t tell me such things; please don’t.’ ‘Ah, but just cross my hand with silver and I’ll tell you some- thing that will drive the tears from that pretty face, and bring smiles instead,’ said the old woman. ‘But I can’t,’ almost sobbed Lena, ‘ I haven’t my purse with me.’ Strange as it may seem to you, not one of us felt like laughing — we were all as solemn as parsons. Somehow or other the place, the time -— for it was growing dusky fast — and the weird looking old woman sent a chill over us all. To add to the scene another bent, tottering form came from behind the folds of the tent, hobbled to the fire, and, after stirring something that was cooking in the big kettle, sat herself down and went puffing away at a hideous looking little black pipe, rocking herself forward and backward as she did so. I tell you, it gave us all the shivers. No wonder poor little Lena was frightened half out of her senses. When Lena said she didn’t have her purse, we fellows all dived our hands into our pockets, and Roger Comant—you know him, Er —he’s a regular old stiff-necked Methodist — was studying for the ministry at the time —took out a half dollar and handed it over to the old witch with 142 four (Birls at Gottage (Mty. a face as solemn as the grave. You would have thought he was paying a forfeit for his own life. Well, as you may guess, Lena’s fortune turned out to be a brilliant one. Fruitless efforts on the part of the dark-eyed beauty across the waters to gain the affection of Lena’s lover, and his deep, unend- ing love and unswerving faith toward Lena, etc., etc., winding up with a brilliant, happy wedding six months from that date. Oh, after we reached home we had a great laugh over it, of course.” “ Well, and was the wedding-day six months from'that time?” asked Vera, with a long-drawn sigh, raising her head from its resting place.” “ It was in little less than three months— in Oc- tober some time.” “And was there a dark-eyed lady across the water? ” was the next question. “No, he didn’t get acquainted with but two. ladies while he was gone — strange as it may seem —and they were middle-aged and with light 1,“. ' regular Germans.” “ Oh, phooh l ” was the contemptuous reply. “ But where’s your fortune, Fred? ” asked Erfort, as the girls rose to go in. “ Didn’t you have it told ?” “ Yes,” replied Fred, with his hand on the knob to open the door. “Well, describe her to us,” said Erfort, with teasing persistency. Jfour Girls at Gottage Gtto. 143 Fred bent his head over Vera’s little white hand, as he raised his hat in “ Good night,” and she was the only one who caught his answer. P‘ Divinely tall, and most divinely fair.” CHAPTER X. Perhaps it was her running so quickly up the stairs that made Vera’s cheeks such a pretty pink when she entered the room, and perhaps it was the lamplight that dazzled her eyes so that she had to cover them for a moment with one hand, and there- fore, did not see the slender form coiled up on one of the beds, with its face buried in the pillows, but Garnet, coming in behind her, saw it, and brushed swiftly by her. “ Why Jessie, what is the matter?” she asked, folding her arms about the little form and nestling her cheek between Jessie’s hands that covered her face. Tell Garnet all about it. Don’t cry, dear, but tell Net all about it.” , Jessie turned over and put her, arms around Garuet’s neck and her head on her shoulder. “ Oh, Net,” she sobbed, “ I’ve lost my watch— my — dar—ling — lit—tle — watch,” and the sobs came thick and fast. , Vera sat down on the foot of the bed and Allie came and stood beside her. They both looked with pitying eyes at Garnet and Jessie. “ Lost your watch, Jess? ” repeated Garnet. it Well, well, don’t cry; we’ll try to find it. Have jfour Girls at Gottage Gtto. 145 you any idea where you lost it? Do you remember where you had it last?” " Oh, Allie, you tell them,” said Jessie, with a sob between every word. “Oh, my dar—ling — lit — tle — watch.” . “ She didn’t miss it until after we came in,” said Allie. “ We went for a little walk and came through the park on our way home.” “ The park opposite ?” asked Vera. “ Yes.” “ Let us go over and see if we can find it, Net,” said Vera, rising as she spoke. “ And, Jessie, while we are gone, you write out a notice and we’ll tack it up in the post oflice.” Jessie looked up and actually smiled through her tears. She was pleased with the idea. In a moment she was sitting up on the edge of the bed brushing her heavy hair away from her flushed, tear-stained face with both hands, and calling to Allie to bring paper and pencil. “ All right, Vera,” she said. “I will write a notice and have it all ready for you by the time you get back. But”— and here came one of those wonderful transformations of the little face —- “ would you offer a reward?” ’ All three girls burst into a laugh. “ Not a very heavy one, at all events, Jasmine,” said Vera. “ But I, suppose it would be as well to write: ‘ The finder will be suitably rewarded, etc., 146 four (Birls at Gottage Gtto. ) etc. Let us hope he or she will be of a big heart, if not of a big purse.” “ No such good luck,” said Jessie. Now you two girls hurry up and I’ll have it ready for you by the time you get back.” Vera and Garnet went down stairs and out into the park. The electric light made everything around as bright as daylight. The two girls walked very slowly, one on either side ofthe path; they bent themselves almost double in their anxiety to search the grounds thoroughly, but after half an hour they were obliged to give up all hope of find- ing the watch, that night, at least, and went sadly back to the cottage. “ Poor little Jasmine,” said Vera. “I hate to tell her we have not found it, she will feel so badly.” Jessie sprang up from the bed as they entered the room and read their faces with her big, shining eyes. .“Oh, you haven’t found it?” she cried, sharply, throwing herself back on the pillows. “ I knew you wouldn’t; it is just my luck.” _Garnet went up to the bed and laid her hand on Jessie’s. “Don’t cry any more to-night, Jessie,” she said, in her low, firm tones. “ We will try again to-rnorrow. Now show us the' wonderful notice. Is this it ? ” She picked up a sheet of paper from the table as she spoke, but had scarcely read the heading be- Jfour (Bins at Glottage Gity. 147 fore Jessie snatched it from her hands. “Let me read it for you,” she said, and before she finished the tears were once more gone and her face expressed nothing but pleasurable excite- ment. “ There ! How is that ?” she asked, with a con- ceited little toss of her head. “ Splendid l ” cried Vera and Garnet together. “ Now give it to us and we will go right over to the oifice and tack it up.” At the door they turned and looked back. Jessie sat with her head leaning on Allie’s shoulder. Her eyes were filled with tears again. ' “ What shall we bring you back that is good, Jasmine ?” asked Vera. ' “ My watch,” answered Jessie, quickly. “ I wish we could dear. But won’t some nougats be almost as good to-night? ” They were surprised to see the red blood rush to Jessie’s face. She laughed a little, and said hastily. “ Oh,.something to drink will be better; I feel burning up.” “ Some phosa? ” suggested Vera. “ Oh, yes; do.” “ What made Jessie blush so,” asked Vera, as the two girls hurried along to the drug store. Garnet smiled; she thought she knew, but she only said: “ She is nervous, I think.” ' ‘48 four cuts at Gottage Gity. On their way back they stopped and tacked the notice up beside the post office window. “There!” said Vera, as she gave the last soft tap to the nail. “If the person who finds the watch sees this and does not give the watch up, I hope the ticking of it will drive him crazy.” “ What a heartless wish,” laughed Garnet. As they entered the room once more Jessie came towards them with both hands held out. Vera stopped with her phosa bottle held high in the air. “ l“Iere, take them. They are all I have left,” said Jessie, and she dropped two nougats into each girl’s hand. “Al and I bought them while you were at the concert. A1 wanted to save some for you, but I was a little pig and wanted to keep them all for ourselves.” The girls laughed heartily. “ Well, and why didn’t you keep them?” asked Vera. “ Oh, because I was ashamed of myself for being so selfish when you are so good to me.” Little, tender-hearted Jessie! So full of your faults, yet so childish and innocent withal! It would seem impossible to chide you. “ Vera,” whispered Garnet, about half an hour after they had gone to bed, and the. regular breath- ing heard from the other side of the room proved that both Jessie and Allie were asleep. She laid her hand lightly’ on Vera’s arm as she spoke- Jfour Girls at Gottage Gity. 149 “ Yes,” replied Vera, in the same soft tone, and she turned over and put her face close to Garnet’s. “You remember what Fred said to-night about that clairvoyant who has rooms on the avenue?” Garnet’s whisper was tremulous with excitement. “ Yes,” answered Vera. -‘ Well, I’m going to her to-morrow.” If Garnet had said: “ I’m going to jump off the wharf to-morrow,” Vera would have been but little more startled. She gave a little jump and sat up in bed, but Garnet drew her hurriedly down again. “ ’Sh; don’t waken the girls. I would never hear the last of it if Jess were to get hold of it. I have fully made up my mind to go, and I’ll go if I have to go alone; but I wish you would go with me; will you? ” Vera’s heart commenced to beat quickly. The idea filled her with a strange excitement. “ But do you really believe she will tell you any- thing worth listening to, Net? ” she whispered. “I don’t know; but I am going.” Garnet’s tones, though necessarily low and soft, were full of quiet determination. Vera knew she meant what she said. She could not think of allowing her to go to such a place as that alone. “ I will go with you,” she said. But I shan’t let her tell me anything.” ' “ No, you needn’t; only go with me.” Five minutes later Garnet was sleeping peace- 150 jfour Girls at Gottage Gtto. fully, but Vera’s eyes remained wide open for an hour or more. spiritualism, mesmerism, and clairvoyance always seemed to her so unreal and full of secret horrors, that the thought of meddling with them — testing their powers —was as far away from her thoughts and inclination as — well, as the power that the people who deal in such arts profess to have, is away from them. She knew but little about them, and had never allowed herself to be- come interested in them. Gypsey fortune telling was bad enough, though it seemed more silly than really bad ; there was fun to be gotten from it any- way. If Vera had been going to have faith in anything of that nature, she would have chosen palmistry. But the idea of a person going into a trance and pretending to read one’s future to one —- why, it was preposterous. Vera was not sure but that it was downright wicked. How did they dare pretend to see into the future! No one but God could do that. She wondered if Garnet really had faith in it, and raised herself up on her pillow to better look into the face lying so near her own. It was very quiet, very serene. The breath came softly and regularly from between the small lips. But it seemed to Vera’s excited imagination as though she saw under the richly colored skin something that passed and repassed swiftly, until it changed the quiet of the face into broken, troubled unrest. Vera heaved a little sigh ofimpatience as 4- a“. ._ l _ ‘.4; . l__l_‘ , ,i’ ’ "_ jfour (Bins at Gottage Gtto. 151 she lay down and settled herself determinedly to sleep. “ That woman won’t go into a trance for me — that is sure,” was her last thought before she drifted ofi“ into dreamland. How the two girls ever escaped the watchful vigilance of Jessie’s bright eyes the next morning was a wonder to themselves, but at 10 o’clock they were walking slowly and sedately up Circuit ave- nue. Had their feet kept pace with their quickly beating hearts, they would have run all the way. “ Madam Hazel, Medium,” read Vera, sudden- ly; and then the two girls found themselves pass- ing up a long flight of steps. At a door, which bore the same words as the sign outside, they paused and looked silently at each other. Vera’s face was very pale, even to the lips, but Garnet’s remained unchanged, only the small lips were drawn into their straightest line. She put out her hand and pressed Vera’s very closely for a second, then she pressed the button and the next moment they were ushered into a small, but handsomely furnished parlor. “ Madam Hazel will be at liberty in a moment, ladies,” said the attendant— a colored woman. “ Please to take chairs ; ” then she disappeared. Vera looked at Garnet and Garnet looked at Vera, then both looked around the room. There were two long windows facing the avenue, draped with lace curtains. Between these windows was a 152 jfour Girls at Glottage (Mtg. small parlor organ. On one side of the room was a handsomely draped mantel with fireplace; on the other, what seemed to be a cabinet, draped with garnet plush. Both girls wondered to themselves it‘ that was where the “ spirits ” were kept, and Vera even found courage to say to herself: “ Perhaps one could smell them if one could put one’s nose through the draperies.” In the center of the room was a small table. But that which the girls looked at the longest, was a curtained alcove at the back of the room. The heavy draperies were drawn closely together, but they were sure that that was the “ mysterious chamber ”— Madam’s “ sanctum sanctorum.” _ ' After they had been seated about ten minutes, a door leading into an apartment beyond opened, and a tall, large woman came slowly into the room. She had a fair, pleasant face, dark hair and small blue eyes. She was dressed in a loose wrapper. “ Good morning, young ladies,” she said, and her voice sounded fresh and cheerful; indeed, quite like other human beings. “ Please excuse my wrapper, but my husband has been quite ill for the past two or three days, and I was up with him the greater part of last night.” Her husband l Then she was human enough to get married. Vera wondered if she had mesmer- ized her husband and he had married her while under the “ spell.” And he was sick and she had Jfour (Birls at Gottage Gtto. 153 been nursing him ; had even stayed up most of the night with him. Human, more human. She spoke with a certain amount of tenderness in her tones— doubtless she loved her husband well. Human, more human, most human. Her next remark set the girls’ hearts a-fluttering. “ Did you wish to consult with me?” “ Yes, ma’am.” ’ Both girls replied, but their voices together would not have made one good one. “ On anything in particular? Matters of busi- ness; or relating to health? ” No, the girls were not particular about either of these. Madam looked at them a little coldly. Vera caught the look and her pride came to the rescue. She drew herself up haughtily. “ My friend would like for you to give her a sit- ting, Madam Hazel,” she said, in her clearest tones. “ But she is not particular about its relat- ing to either business or health. Simply tell her what—what—” Vera paused, not knowing how to express herself, then added, desperately, “ what is shown to you.” Madam Hazel rose from her seat, and walked over to the curtained alcove. She drew the dra- peries aside and turned to Garnet. “ In here, please,” she said. Garnet walked very meekly past Madam, and Madam followed her, drawing the draperies closely 154 four Girls at Gottage Gity. together, but the next moment her head appeared through a small opening. “Excuse me, Miss, but do you play on the organ?” “ Yes, ma’am,” answered Vera, with a prompt- ness born of surprise. “Well, will you please play softly while lam talking to this young lady? My ‘spirit’ does not like for a third party to hear what she tells me.” Then the head disappeared, and Vera surprised and displeased, but with no choice left, rose slowly from the chair and seated herself on the stool. Her hands dropped aimlessly on the keyboard, and she gazed vacantly at a picture over the organ. “Begin at once, please,” came from behind the draperies. , Vera gave a little jump and struck out desper- ately on “The Old Folks at Home.” “ Not quite so loud, please,” again came from behind the draperies. “ You disturb my spirit— she cannot talk with me.” Thus corrected, Vera closed the swell and played on softly and sweetly. She felt very indignant at first, and as Madam’s tones came indistinctly to her, mumbling ofi' somejargon or another, she felt angry and ashamed of herself for coming, but by and by the comicality of it all—Garnet in close commu- nication with Madam and the “ spirit,” and herself posted upon the organ stool, playing anything and jfour 6M5 at Gottage Gity. 155 everything that came into her mind —dawned grad- ually upon her and changed her angry feelings to those of amusement. “ What would anyone think if they were to come in here and see me stuck up on this stool, playing away for dear life, while that nonsense is going on in there —behind the scenes. They would probably think—and I don’t know as I would blame them if they did — thatI am hired by Madam for so much an hour to play while she goes into her trances and reveals the future to anyone who' is foolish enough to pay her for doing it. lf such a thing were possible as one of my friends coming in here and catching me, I would die of mortification. I wonder what Mr. Travers and Mr. Richards would think, especially the latter.” . The very idea of anything so dreadful, caused her to stop playing. Madam’s voice stopped at the same time, but Vera did not notice it. After a mo- ment Madam called out: , “ Keep right on, squaw; I’m not quite through yet.” “Gracious!” exclaimed Vera to herself. “A queer trance s/ze must be in to know when I stop playing, and scream out to me in that way. And what does she ' mean by calling me ‘ squaw.’ ” Aloud she said : “ ButI have played all I know.” “ Then begin over again and go through with the same pieces, please,” replied Madam, pleasantly. 156 jfour (Btrls at Gottage Gtty. Vera obeyed, smiling a little grimly as' she thought: “ Serves me right for coming.” She was in the middle of “Home, Sweet Home,” and heartily wishing herself there, when the door bell rang. Vera’s heart gave a jump. The woman who waited on the door came into the room. Vera turned to her. “Will they come in here?” she asked, in an agitated whisper. . The woman smiled. “They will only pass through.” ' Then she opened the door, and Vera almost twisted her head off in her anxiety to turn her face completely away from the door. In doing this she looked squarely into a looking-glass, and not only that, but she looked squarely into the face of the gentleman who was 'entering the room—Mr. Erfort Richards. But Mr. Richards’ eyes were cast downward.- Vera drew a long breath as she saw this. He hadn’t seen her! Oh, joy! But what was he there for? What was size there for? 5/16 came with Garnet; but what was Garnet there for? Mr. Richards came alone, so there was no question as to his errand. Well, of all things ! Such agrave, ' dignified, sensible young man as he seemed to be! If it had been Fred —Vera’s fingers wandered lightly into “ Beautiful Blue Danube.” She played on, one waltz after another, a smile 'on her CHAPTER X I. Madam Hazel rose from her chair to draw the draperies together. “ It is your turn to play now,” she said to Garnet, in the pleasantest voice imaginable. “ But I don’t know how,” said Garnet.' Madam’s face fell. “ Can’t you play at all ?” she asked. “Well—well—er, no ;_ not much. Nothing, to speak of. Only chords,” burstout Garnet, nerv- ously, and then she grew more nervous still at hear- ing Vera’s soft giggle. Madam’s face cleared; she smiled brightly. “ Oh, well, that will do. Play chords,” and then she drew the curtains together, and poor Garnet, feeling more foolish than Vera had dreamed of feel- ing, sat herself down on the stool and went to play- ing “chords.” Tum, turn, tum; tum, tum, tum. One thing right over and over again. If she only knew enough about playing to change the chords, but,alasl she only knew the accompaniment to one piece,—“ Last Night,”— and Jessie had taught her that because she — Garnet —- had liked it so well. Oh, dear! What would anyone in the house think to hear that monotonous drumming. If she only 16o Jfour (Birls at Gottage Gite. ful how I speak to her. AfterI tell you everything my spirit tells to me, you may ask me any questions you choose and I will answer them for you. The old squaw sits at the door of her wigwam, and when I ask her a question she writes the answer to it on a slate, and I read it from it. Sometimes it is very misty around the slate and I cannot see the writing, but if— dis a quee bushee din a pree f umoo — ” Vera gave a little jump as Madam very suddenly went from English to a jargon which Vera, after a moment, supposed to be Indian dialect, but which sounded to her just as I have written it. She stifled a nervous desire to laugh, and paid close attention to what Madam, with ever moving hands, proceeded to tell her; first in broken English, then in perfectly plain. “ Now, my fair-haired squaw, I see you velly plainly. No, not so velly plainly, for ze light that am shining around you am not bright like ze sun- light, but paler, like ze moonlight. You am stand- ing all alone in ze tall grasses, and all around you am—am—oh, (here Madam passed her hands rapidly over each other several times and made up a most comical face, as though she could not find words to express her meaning,) oh, zey look like cobwebs ; zee? Zey mean that you am surrounded with difliculties and troubles, and you do not know which way to turn or what to do. The clouds are jfour Girls at Gottage Gite. 161 heavy over you, but by and by they begin to break and roll slowly away, and a little star appears and shines brightly down upon you. In a little while the moon begins to peep through the clouds, a little at a time, a little at a time, until by and by it shines down upon you, and makes the way clear before you. Then you 'begin to break with your own hands, one by one, these cobwebs that are about you. No one helps you, you do it all yourself, and in a little while you break them all, and walk away. You come to a gate, and as you pass through, a dark-eyed brave come towards you. He is about thirty years of age. He will try to influ- ence your life, but, squaw, have nothing to do with him, for his influence will not be for your good. Then I see two more figures coming towards you ; a tall, fair brave, leading a dark-eyed squaw by the hand. You know the brave, but you do not know the squaw. This brave, squaw, will be the one you will marry, but his squaw will not die for a year and a half yet. I see that you are a’person who is possessed of a large amount of will-power. But be careful, for in a little while you will lose a good amount of it. Now, squaw, one thing is cer- tain. You will marry a brave whose squaw has gone to the happy hunting grounds. You will have a beautiful home and will be very happy, although you will never have children. But before this change comes to you, you will pass through con- 162 Jfour (Birls at (Iottage (wt. siderable trouble and perplexity, but it will all come out right at last. Now, squaw, am dere any ques- tions you would like to ask me?” Vera, half ashamed, half angry, and wholly disgusted, had a great mind to reply with a curt “ No,” but then thought she would ask a few ques- tions just for fun. ' '“ How old am I?” Madam leaned forward, as iflistening, with her head on one side and her mouth pursed up. Then she said slowly: “ Squaw, the slate says, ‘twenty two.’” Vera’s heart beat a little quicker; the answer was right. Madam still sat with her eyes closed. “She is reading my mind,” thought Vera, sud- denly. 'Aloud she asked: “ What is my occupation?” and she said to her- self, over and over: “ Writing,” “ writing :” Madam leaned nearer to her. Her face twitched, and she'screwed it up so tight that Vera could see nothing but nose. Presently she said: “ Squaw, the slate says, “ Writing,” “ writing,” oh, so many times.” Vera smiled in a superior manner‘. “ With whom do I live?” was her next question, and immediately after asking it she fixed her eyes on space and her mind ditto. She did not think of anything. Her mind, for the time being, was a perfect blank. The twitching in Madam’s face Jfour (Birls at Gottage Gite. 163 became 'something quite alarming. She moved nearer yet to Vera; she breathed quickly, and her breath touched Vera’s cheek. Her hands worked nervously; she twisted and wrung Vera’s glove into a perfect rag. The expression of her face became perfectly beseeching, but Vera used all the _ will-power that Madam had truly given her credit of possessing, in keeping her mind in its blank state. She would not yield one inch. At last Madam dropped the glove in her lap and spread out her hands towards Vera with a pathetic gesture. “Ah, squaw, the slate is misty. I cannot see the writing upon it. My “ spirit” is growing tired, and she will not tell me anything.” Vera said nothing. In her own mind she was satisfied. The mystery of clairvoyance was, for her, clearly explained. “ Have you any more questions to ask, Squaw?” Madam was meekness personified, and her tones were timid. Vera rose from her chair. “ No, thank you; no more.” She stood, with one hand resting on the table. looking at Madam. Madam raised both hands up over her head, clasped them tightly together, yawned once or twice, as if waking from a deep sleep, stretched herself, rubbed her eyes like a sleepy child, allowed one or two slight quivers' to pass through her body, and finally sat upon her chair and looked up into Vera’s face with blinking 164 Jfour Girls at Gottage Gity. eyes. Vera did not allow her natural politeness to be entirely swallowed up in her disgust. “ How much is it?” she asked, but her tones were what Garnet always said made her think of “ sweetened ice.” “ One dollar.” Vera took the money out of her purse and handed it to Madam, picked up her glove from the table, bowed haughtily and swept in her most dig- nified manner out into the parlor. Garnet turned on the organ stool and looked at Vera with wide open, questioning eyes. Vera replied with an expression that drew Garnet from the stool and out of the room, as the magnet draws the needle. Never a word said Vera as they went down the stairs, but once on the street, and at a safe distance from the crowd, and she turned to Garnet with scornful eyes. “ Garnet Dare, we are two big simpletons.” “ Amen !” said Garnet, but her tones were not cordial, and Vera, looking at her, knew that what- ever inclination Garnet had had to believe in the power of the medium, that inclination had been strengthened by the things that had been said to her by Madam. Vera was reserve itself, even with her most inti- mate friends, but as she looked down into the strong little face beside her, the question sprang abruptly to her lips : jfour (Birls at Gottage Gite. I65 .“ What did she tell you, Net?” Garnet looked before her with dreamy eyes. She paused a moment before answering, for Vera was her dearest friend and they loved each other well. Then a quick flush spread itself from brow to neck. “ Oh, lots'of foolishness, Vera; nothing worth mentioning.” Vera appeared satisfied. “There is one thing about it; we’ll have to go without something else, now. The idea of throwing away a dollar on such foolishness. But, Net, I have something to tell you. Do you remember of hearing the bell ring, while Madam was talking to you? ” Garnet looked surprised. “ Did it ring?” she asked. Vera laughed. Were you really so carried away that you didn’t hear it? Well, it rung, and a gen- tleman passed through the parlor.” Vera stopped and looked at Garnet. Garnet lifted calm eyes. “ Yes?” “ Well,” repeated Vera. “ Guess who it was ?” Garnet stood perfectly still.' They had turned off the avenue and were walking along the beach. “ Not Fred?” “ No; not he.” Garnet looked earnestly into Vera’s smiling face, then she commenced to walk slowly on with her eyes fixed on the sand. “It wasn’t, was it, Vera?” 166 jfour (Btrls at Gottage (IttQ. Although Garnet mentioned no name, Vera un- derstood. “ Yes, it was, Net,” she answered. They walked along the beach for half an hour or more, both very silent. Vera was wishing she had her dollar safe back in her purse again, but Garnet’s thoughts, to judge from the expression of her face, were of a more romantic nature. At last Vera exclaimed: “ Oh, mercy ! how hot this sun is. Let us go home.” As they entered the cottage by the kitchen door, Jessie came rush- ing from the parlor to meet them, her face spark- ling with smiles. In her hand she swung lightly to and fro, the silver fob to her watch. Allie fol- lowed close behind, and she, too, was smiling. “ My watch, girls; my watch !” cried Jessie, and threw an arm around the neck of each. ' “ Where did you find it ?” both asked at once. “ Oh, the strangest thing I ” said Jessie, breath- lessly. “ Come into the parlor and I’ll tell you all about it. There ! you three sit there on the lounge and I’ll stand up before you and tell it all off. I’m so excited I can’t sit still. You know, just a little while after you two sneaked off this morning, (she stopped long enough to roll her eyes reproachfully around at Garnet and Vera,) somebody knocked on the front door. “ Grandpa ” went to the door, and there stood a lady. She wanted to see the person who had lost the watch, so of course “ Grandpa’x called me. Well, when I came down, of all the four (Birls at Gottage Gite. 167 sights I ever saw! I suppose she was a woman, because she had on a woman’s dress and hat, but there all the likeness to other women ended. She had short hair and big brown hands, and she took long steps like a man, and her voice was ‘ ugh, ugh, ugh,’ (Jessie made her voice as gruff as possible,) and upon my word, girls, she had a mustache that any man might be proud of. Twice as .heavy as Fred Travers’; and the color was what you might call a fast black. Well, she eyed me over as cool as you please. The mean old thing didn’t bring the watch with her, but she said it was at her cottage on Ocean avenue, and if it belonged to me I could have it by coming for it. She found it last night in the post ofi‘ice. Well, Allie and I trotted up to her cottage with her, like two little puppy dogs, and she left us in the reception room while she went for the watch. My l but wasn’t that house furnished though ! B-e-a-u-ti-ful ! She was gone quite a while, but when she came back she had the watch. I almost forgot all about the reward, butI pulled out my purse as grand as life, and took out the big sum of one dollar and passed it to her, and I declare if she didn’t take it. Jessie’s eyes fairly snapped. So did Vera’s and Garnet’s. “No, you don’t mean it, Jess! ” they both exclaimed. “ Yes, sir, she did — the stingy beggar. Worth her millions, probably — she’s just cranky enough 168 Four GM5 at Gottage (HIP. to be — and take a dollar from a poor little pauper like me. I can’t have any more nougats now all the rest of the time I’m here. But I don’t care. I’ve got my darling little watch back again.” And Jessie laid her little scarlet cheek against the pretty toy and kissed it. Vera was indignation itself. “Well, if she isn’t whatI call meanness personified. The idea ! ” A knock sounded on the closed blind door. Jessie ran to open it. They saw her start, then draw herself up haughtily and press her lips to- gether. Then they heard a gruff voice say : “ Ex- cuse me, but I have come to bring back the dollar you gave this morning. I don’t care for it.” They saw a big, brown hand put a silver dollar into the little palm that Jessie mechanically held out, then the'grufi' voice said: “ Good Morning,” and Jessie closed the door and came back to them with big, black eyes. “ Of all things ! ” was all she could say, and then all four burst into a merry peal of laughter. After many conjectures as to what induced the strange woman to bring back the dollar, Jessie de- clared that the other ladies in the house made her do it; that she was a loon, or half a one anyway; and then she went dancing out ofthe parlor, crying: “ I’ll treat the crowd on nougats now, to celebrate my double good luck. Come on mit me, Al.” jfotir Girls at Gottage Gity. 169 Garnet looked at Vera. “ It has made her for- 'get to ask us where we have been. Fortunate, eh?” And Vera replied with a little squeeze of the hand. CHAPTER XII._ The next morning, as the girls were putting the finishing touches to their toilet, a low, soft, trem- bling knock sounded on their door. They looked at each other with smiling faces and their lips simul- taneously formed the word, “ Mother.” Vera opened the door. Yes, there she stood'on the threshold, a smile on her fair old face, one hand resting on the door, the other holding back “ Grandpa.” “ Good morning,” said the girls. “ Come right in and take some chairs.” “ Thank you, dears,” replied “ Mother,” her face flushing with pleasure at the pleasant manner with which she was received. She and “ Grandpa” had even so soon learned to love “ their four girls,” as they called them. .“ We won’t come in, thank you; but Mr. Atherton and me wanted to ask you if you would as soon come down to the kitchen be- fore we have breakfast, and sing something to us.” “ Yes, girls, if you would come, ‘ Mother ’ and I would be so happy,” quavered “ Grandpa,” from the background. Jfour Girls at Gottage Gtty. 171 “Why, certainly we will come,” said the girls. The look on the old faces was thanks enough. “ Mother” pushed “ Grandpa” towards the stairs. “ Now we’ll go right down, Mr. Atherton,” she said, primly. “ Perhaps the young ladies are not quite ready.” But the girls declared they were, and in a few minutes they were all seated in the kitchen singing the same hymns they had sung every morning—- old, but ever new to “ Grandpa ” and “ Mother.” “ Girls,” said “ Mother,” suddenly, “you have all given your hearts to the Saviour, haven’t you? ” The question was a great surprise to the girls. Vera, Garnet and Jessiecould only look down into their laps and smile nervously. Allie surprised them as much as “ Mother’s ” question had done. “ I have never confessed my love for Him before the world,” she said, softly, “but I do love Him with all my heart.” “Amen. Thank God!” quavered “'Grandpa.” “ ‘ Mother,’ let us pray.” . Side by side knelt the two bent forms. Allie slipped quietly from her chair to her knees, and the other three, after a quick look at one another, did the same. “ Our dear Father and our God, who has heard what this, Thy precious daughter, has testified to us and to Thee, take her forever close to Thy heart, so close that she can never wander away from it, 172 jfour (Birls at Gottage Gite. and fill her young life with the strength that can only come from constant intercourse with Thine own holy self. Dear Father, Mighty Redeemer, hold her close, close. Many and great are the temptations that will come to her in this life. Thou knowest this, for Thou hast lived upon the earth and passed through it all before us, and we cannot tell Thee anything Thou dost not know. But we know that it is very precious to Thy loving heart; to have Thy children ask Thy help; Thy help which Thou art always so glad to give. Oh, Father, clear Father, bless her, keep her, shield her from all harm. And, dear Father, touch these other young hearts that are beating before Thee ; they are such true, pure, lovable hearts, dear Father, capable of containing such strong feeling; turn them in these, their early days, towards Thee and towards the only true life. We love them so clearly, Father, that we cannot find words with which to pray for them, but Thy love for them, which is so much stronger and greater than ours can ever be, is able to do all and much more than any words of ours could ask for. Help us through this day and the days—many or few as Thou wilt—that are to come, forgive us our many sins, and save us at last for Jesus sake, Amen. *' * 'X' 4* ii i ~11' ‘It jfour (Birls at Gottage Gity. 173 “ Where are you going Vera?” asked J'essie about 4 o’clock that afternoon, as Vera came into the room and took her hat down from its nail. Jessie looked tired. She was sitting in the rock- ing chair, with her head leaning against the back of it, rocking. Garnet and Allie were out on the piazza. Vera stood still in the middle of the room, and ran her hat-pin through the lace on her hat. “ Oh — not far —just for a little walk.” “ Well, I’m awfully lonesome, somehow or another,” said Jessie, with a sigh. “ Don’t you want me to go with you?” Strange to say, Vera hesitated. Jessie opened her eyes in surprise. “ Don’t you want me, Vera?” she asked, child- ishly. “Of course I'do, Jasmine,” replied Vera, lov- ingly. “ Only —perhaps, when you know where I am going, you won’t care to go.” “Well, tell me; then you will know.” “ Well, I’m going to see Charlotte Hood.” Vera fully expected a burst of scornful laughter. What was her surprise to see Jessie spring to her feet, clap her hands softly and run for her hat. “ Oh, Vera, that is perfectly lovely. Of course I want to go. I have been thinking of her all this afternoon, and wishing I might see her and hear her talk. Whatever made you think of going there?” 174 four Girls at GottagésGity. “ Well, to tell the truth, I had the same desire that you have confessed to having—I felt just like it.” “Net and A1 are out on the piazza, talking to those two boys,” said Jessie, a little contempqlous- ly. “ They rode up a few minutes ago on their bicycles. Let’s go out the side door and they won’t see us.” Vera stopped irresolutely at'the foot of the stairs. “Perhaps they would like to go with us. Ifeel as though I ought to tell them where we are going.” ' Jessie gave her lace mitten an impatient jerk. “ Oh, come along, Vera ; don’t, for pity’s'sake, ask those two boys. I’d like to go somewhere once, without them tagging at our heels.” ,j Vera smiled and followed Jessie out of the house. The day was beautiful. It was a little cool, so the girls wore their plush shoulder capes over their light dresses. It seemed as though all Cottag City were out promenading, or riding the wheel. The cool sea-breeze made everyone feel bright and joyful. Gay laughter and merry voices sounded ,5 everywhere. A little fellow in a smart sailor suit “ and cap rode his miniature bicycle close to Jessie’s dainty muslin dress, and then raised his cap in laughing apology. He was not more than ten years old. Ordinarily Jessie would have corrected him sharply for his carelessness, but now she Jfourgtrls at Gottage (Ittv. ,1‘ 175 smiled and nodded pleasa‘ntly back to him and watched him with wistful eyes as he spun gaily down the avenue. “ How poor little Robie Hood would enjoy doing what that boy is doing,” she said; and Vera, look- mg Qt her in surprise, saw tears in the sweet eyes. “ Oh, Vera, it doesn’t seem right, does it ?” Vera looked very grave. "‘ What doesn’t seem right, Jess? ” she asked. " She knew what Jessie meant, but wanted to draw her out. She never remembered to have seen her in such a mood before, and it pleased, while it perplexed and saddened her. Bright, laughing, careless little Jessie, to be so touched and grieved. 3“ Why, that such a woman as Mrs. Hood should have so much care and trouble, and that darling little boy should suffer so. He never did a bit of harm in all his life, I know, and just see the life he is living. I wonder ifit is all right. It can’t be, for where is the justice in it?” ' Vera could not tell her; she 'didn’t know herself. Had Jessie asked for her qainion on the justice of ' > “ King Arthur ” leaving “ Guinevere ” to her fate- in the nunnery, she would scarcely have been able to talk fast enough, her thoughts would have come so rapidly. But on this subject she was dumb. She was dumb because she was ignorant. She had neverthought about the justice of God, and so ~ she couldqnot pass an opinion on it. ’.' 176 four Girls at Gottage Gtty. “I have never once thought about such things before,” went on Jessie. “ And I don’t suppose I would now if I hadn’t happened to go there the other day: but since then I haven’t been able to get that child out of my mind. I can see his little face just as it looked on his mother’s shoulder. Oh, Vera, wasn’t it dreadful l ” and Jessie grasped Vera’s hand. Vera returned the clasp and they walked along in this manner. “ I’ve always been such a selfish little thing,” went on Jessie. “ Getting mad over the least little thing. If I want the sun to shine and it rains, I rave and tear around as if some terrible thing had happened; and there that poor little boy has to lie in bed in all kinds of weather—fair as Well as foul — and besides that, suffer such terrible pain‘ all the time. Now look at that handsome carriage ahead there; see that lady lying back in it with that nasty little poodle on her lap. And see the gentleman opposite to her, half asleep on his soft cushions. He looks as though he had been up half the night. I don’t suppose they have anything in this world to do but laze 'around, eat, sleep, drive out and enjoy themselves. And there is this poor mother working herself to death in order to get food enough to keep her and her child from starving; lived agood, christian life all her days, I suppose,' and the child —--little lower than an angel —sufi'er-' ing untold agony every hour of his life. Not even jfour (Birls at Gottage Gtty. I77 able to. crawl to the door and get a breath of fresh air. Nothing to amuse himself with, the few mo- ments he is not suffering, but a few miserable little toys. Why,Vera, he even has to stay in the house alone while his mother is gone for the clothes. O, it is dreadful, dreadful ! Don’t you suppose he is as precious in God's sight as that poodle lying in that lady’s lap?” " Jessie turned her glowing face to Vera as she sharply asked this question. Vera recoiled in shocked surprise. “ Why, Jessie, what a question l Of course he is.” “ Then why does He provide better for the' dog than for the child ?” Vera was mute. She was shocked, grieved and troubled. Jessie was all hot resentment, but she was seeking for light, poor child l > “What do you t/zink, Vera? You are educated and have always been considered more than com- monly intelligent. You are a great reader and a great thinker. Tell me what you think about it.” Alas, proud Vera! Well informed on all the important topics of the day, she was totally unable to answer Jessie’s simple little question. She could tell the author of almost , any book that anyone might mention, and be able to give a fair synopsis of Y the book itself. Her opinions on this and that sub- ject— slavery, dress reform, woman’s rights, pro- 178 Jfour Girls at Gottage Glttiz. hibition, etc., etc., her criticisms on art, ancient as well as modern literature, public speakers, and even her really enviable knowledge of the manner and customs of foreign countries and the govern- ment of her own — in all these she had gained for herself recognition from the cultivated society in which she moved. But this thing of which Jessie spoke was beyond her comprehension; she could find no words with which to answer. And Jessie, who disliked all deep reading and who did not read a poem once a year, except in her elocution, had commenced to think out the deep mystery of life, and Vera—learned Vera— had no help to give her. She looked into the little quivering face and her own grew sad at the thought. “ It isn’t right, Vera; it isn’t right,” Jessie re- peated wildly, and then she stopped suddenly before a toy-shop and her face grew laughing once more. “Come in here a minute, Vera; I’m going to get a ‘ Noah’s Ark ’ for Robin.” “ You go in here, Jess,” said Vera, “ and I’ll run across the street and get some of those nice looking bananas.” The two girls, as they neared Charlotte Hood’s little brown cottage, both realized plainly that there was a new feeling in their heart; a quiet, softly happy, contented feeling that they did not stop to analyze, but which was very pleasant, indeed, Jfour Girls at Gottage Gity. 179 to them. They did not mention it one to the other, but it was there in each heart. Mrs. Hood answered their knock on the door. Her face lighted up at the sight of her visitors and she invited them into the room where Robin lay, in her most cordial tones. “ This is one of my boy’s good days,” she said, smoothing the white pillow that his golden head rested upon. “ Robbie, darling, these young ladies have come to see you.” But at the first sight of Jessie, Robin’s face had broken out into a bright, merry smile, and Jessie, so pleased to see this—for it made him look more like other boys —stepped quickly to the bed-side, and taking both his little, thin hands in one of her’s, smoothed the clustering curls back with her other, and kissed him twice, once on each cheek. And when she lifted her head, the pleased mother saw tears standing thick in the glorious eyes. Vera’s kiss on the white cheek was very sweet and gentle, and the boy smiled up into the fair face bent over him with a childish, trusting smile, that deeply touched her. ' In a few moments more they were all three watching Robin with happy faces, as he sat propped up in bed, his ‘ Noah’s Ark’ spread out before him, a large banana in his hands, which he kept offering to his mother now and then, and from which she took little bites to satisfy him, and his beautiful, pale face glowing with an almost healthful glow. ___.,-a Jae; , 180 jfour Girls at Gottage 0102. The mother sat in a chair close to the pillow, Jessie sat on the bed, and Vera in the low rocker beside it. For an hour Robin played with the pretty toys and prattled gaily as he did so ; then, by and by, he laid them down with a little happy sigh, and slipping his hand into that of his mother’s, turned his face toward her on the pillow and said, a little wearily : “I’m tired, mamma, but I’m happy, too. Sing the pretty piece, mamma.” She was oblivious of everything but her child, and she sang to him the “ pretty piece”: “ Nearer, My God To Thee,” just as though they were there alone. And as she sang, his hand, wandering lovingly among the toys, touched Jessie’s hand as she timidly put it in his way, and nestled there; and so with one hand clasping his mother’s and the other clasping Jessie’s he sank into a sweet, untroubled sleep. For a few moments after they knew he slept, they were very quiet, for fear of waking him ; then all at once Jessie said in a very low, but passionate tone: “ Oh, it seems cruelJ It can’t be right. There is no justice in it.” The mother’s eyes, that had been feasting them- selves hungrily on the little face so close to her own, turned towards Jessie, and Jessie's sank before the light in them. “Oh, don’t dare to say it,” breathed the low, ilfour (Bins at Gottage Gits). is1 thrilling tones. “ It is God’s will, and He is an all- wise and an all-merciful God.” Jessie stared at her in utter amazement, so did Vera, and Mrs. Hood looking first into one face and then into the other, read the secret of each heart as plainly as if it had been written upon each face, and drawing her hand gently away from her boy’s clasp, motioned the two girls to go with her to the other end of the room, away from the bed,.and sit beside her at the window. CHAPTER X I I I. “ I feel that God means for me to speak to you now, in this place and at this moment,” she said, in low,’vibrating tones. “ He is moving my hea‘rt very strangely, and I feel that it is so I may, through His guidance, move yours. You do not know what it is to have the Saviour for your friend? You have never given your hearts to him?” Both girls shook their heads. “ I knew it, for if you had, you would never have said what you did.” She stopped a moment and looked at them. She was very pale indeed, and her lips were trembling, but the look that Vera had seen on her face in the tabernacle was on her face now. “ Let me tell you the story of my, life,” she said, suddenly. “It is something I have never told to anyone before, but it seems as tho’ the Lord were commanding me to tell it to ,you. Would you like to hear it?” “ Oh, if you would, Mrs. Hood,” said Jessie; and Vera said : “ Yes, please, if you are willing.” Mrs. Hood looked over to the bed where her boy lay sleeping, and commenced her story. four $trls at Gottage Gity. I83 “ I was one of a family of eight children—six girls and two boys. Our home was on the Cape— Cape Cod. My father was a sea captain, and up to the time I was fifteen years old I did not know what it was to want for anything. I had three sisters older than myself— Hannah, Emeline and Deborah. Hannah and Emeline were very handsome girls, but I loved Deborah the best. After me came the brother whom I almost worshipped—Johial. Then Thankful, then Mercy, then little Warren, named for father. We were a very happy family. Father was away from home a great deal, of course, but when he came back from his trips -——oh, what happy times those were l Such syrup as he used to bring home. I have never tasted anything like it since; and whole barrels of almonds. I cannot begin to tell you how happy we were. My three older sisters went to dancing school, evening par- ties and entertainments, and I was always looking forward to the time when I could go. No serious thought ever entered my head, until when I was about eleven years old, there came a revivalist to ' West Dennis, (my home was in South Dennis). “ Hannah, Emeline and Deborah used to go over to the meetings every night, but they only went for the walk home with the young men after meeting. Child though I was, I saw that easily enough. I begged and teased mother to let me go with them just for one night, but the girls said they would not 184 Jfour Girls at Gottage Gity. r be bothered with me, and mother let them have their way about it. But I had made up my mind to go, and go I would. I had heard the girls tell of things the revivalist had said, and Deborah, who was a very good mimic, had once or twice' acted him out to us younger ones. I had made up my mind as to how he looked. I imagined him to be a tall, large man, with long, floating, black hair, fiery, dark eyes, and a stern mouth, out of which proceeded terrible words about sinners dying and being thrown into a lake of fire, where they burned forever and ever. I was wild to see and hear, and on the last night of his stay I crawled out of the bed where mother had tucked Thankful and I an hour before, and, dressing myself rapidly, glided down stairs and out of the side door, just as my sisters, with cousins Abbie, Modina and Patience, went out ofthe front gate. Fortunately for me there was no moon, but the stars shone beautifully bright and clear, and the May night was delightful. The girls kept up a continual chatter, and they neither saw or heard me as I glided along, a little dark figure, in the shadow of the whispering pines. It was a good two miles and a half walk, and when we reached the church we found it nearly filled- The girls managed to get seats together, and I squeezed myself between 'two fat old ladies in one of the seats opposite. We had not been there long before half a dozen young men, who haunted out' 186 Jfonr (Birls at Gottage (lift. took his place. He was the ‘ preacher.’ Did he look as I had pictured him? Not at all. His face was mild and fair; his white hair was brushed simply back from a broad, beautiful forehead. His eyes were blue, and although he must have been seventy years old, they were as bright and clear as any man’s of forty. When he opened his lips to speak no terrible words of ‘ death and fire and eternal banishment’ came from them, but just this, softly and tenderly spoken : ‘ Come unto me, all ye that are weary and heavy laden, and I will give' you rest.’ That is all that I can clearly remember, but the efi‘ect these words had on my childish heart, I will never forget. There were no loud groans from excited hearers, such as I had expected to hear; everyone was very quiet, but upon many a tired face, there gradually settled a look of rest and peace, and the softly spoken words fell upon and soothed many an aching, sorrowing heart. Ican only remember how my heart was filled with a happy longing—I felt like crying and singing at the same time. When the meeting closed with the hymn, ‘ Blest be the Tie that Binds,’ I could hardly realize where I was or how I had gotten there, but the truth came to me only just in time, for as I turned to leave the seat, Emeline’s dark eyes, glanc- ing carelessly around, almost lighted upon me- I dodged behind the tall pew door not a moment too soon. When I peeped out she was passing my four (Bins at Gottage Gtty. IS7 hiding-place and her eyes were cast down beneath the admiring blue ones of Elnathan _Rogers. I slipped out and was soon fluttering along in the shadow of the old pine trees once more. But now my heart was beating strangely. I could not think clearly of what the ‘preacher’ had said; I only knew that he had told us of a Father in Heaven — a loving, tender Father—who cared for all His children alike. He had taken just such little ones as me up in His arms and said : ‘ Suffer little chil- dren to come unto Me, for of such is the kingdom of Heaven.’ He had told of a beautiful home up above the skies, where all who had been His faith- ful children here, could come and live, by and by, when He called them. There, all things that seemed wrong here, would be made right. There was no crying there, no pain, no parting; all was happiness, peace and rest. The ‘ preacher’ had spoken so simply, albeit with great eloquence, that . I had understood plainly what he had said, and I was thinking of it very earnestly, as I walked along with my eyes cast down, so earnestly in fact, thatI had entirely forgotten everything else, until I was suddenly .‘ brought back to earth ’ and my surround- ings by walking right into the midst of the young couples, who had stopped and were regarding me with rather suspicious glances, until I lifted my face to theirs, and then — such a torrent of exclamations as burst forth, such as: ‘ Of all things l’ ‘ Well, 188 your (Birls at Glottage Gtty. if I don’t give it up!’ ‘ Charlotte Mehitable Phil- lips, where did you come from?’ Iwas mute until Hannah grasped my arm, not any too gently, and said sternly : ‘ Charlotte Mehitable, tell me the truth this instant. Where did you come from? ’ All the softened feelings that had been filling my heart, left it as I twisted myself out of her grasp and cried, breathlessly: ‘I cum from the meetin’, and you just let me alone Hannah Abbie Phillips, or I’ll tell mot/zer 110w you girls never listened to tile preac/zer one single bit, but et candy and wrote notes to t/zefellers every blessed minute.’ Great is the power of the infant terrible ! A hush fell upon the group as they eyed me, small conquerer! fac- ing them all with a little flushed face and shining eyes. Then Deborah, slyly thrusting a checker- berry wafer in my hand, said : ‘ Well, well, never mind Charley; tell us all about it, that’s a good girl.’ Thus ‘ approached,’ I graciously' complied. When I finished, Hannah took me between her and . Theophalus Baker, and said, as we walked along: ‘ Well, we’ll let you run in at the front door and get up stairs to bed, and t/zis time we won’t tell mother about it, but don’t you ever dare to do such a thing as this again. Mercy l It’s a wonder something awful didn’t happen to you.’ I don’t think mother ever knew about my going to hear the ‘ preacher.’ I never told her and I do not think the girls did. Although Hannah made a great show of Y‘ letting Jfour Girls at Gottage Gity. 189 me off,’ as she called it, yet I secretly believed, and do now, that I was the lenient one.” Mrs. Hood stopped talking and sat looking at Robin with a smile on her face. The room was full of shadows, for the twilight was deepening. Vera and Jessie had been much interested, and could not bear to think of going without hearing more, but the supper hour was very near. Mrs. Hood seemed to realize all at once how late it was growing, for she suddenly rose from her chair and said : “Why, you must excuse me for keeping you here in the dark. I will light the lamp.” The girls had risen at the same time, and Vera said: ' “ Oh, please do not light the lamp for us; we must go now. We have enjoyed it all so much. Can’t we come again and hear the rest ofit? ” “Yes, indeed,” answered Mrs. Hood. “ I want to tell you it all.” _ “When will it be most convenient for you to have us come? Our time is all our own, you know.” “Yes. Well, I am generally at liberty about this time every day. I call this hour ‘ Robin’s hour,’” and the mother glanced lovingly towards the bed. “ Then we will be so glad if we can share ‘ Robin’s hour’ with him,” said Vera, and Jessie asked slyly : “ Would you be willing for the other girls to come and hear it too, Mrs. Hood?” I90 jfour (Birls at Gottage Gitv. Vera looked at Jessie in surprise, but Mrs. Hood replied : “ Certainly, I would be very happy to have them come, if they would like to; and your two gentle- men friends, too.” “ Thank you,” said Jessie, simply. The girls kissed Robin softly. He still lay asleep, holding an animal tightly in his little, thin hand. “ How was it you asked if Net and Allie might come, Jess?” asked Vera, as they walked swiftly towards home. “ Oh, I knew they would enjoy it so much,” replied Jessie. ' “And the young men?” said Vera, slyly. Jessie tossed her head. “ Oh, let them come if they want to. It may do them good.” CHAPTER XIV “ Well, my dears, if you have no particular objections to telling, we would like to know where you have kept yourselves all the afternoon,” was Garnet’s greeting to Vera and Jessie as they entered the kitchen where she was spreading the cloth for the evening meal. Allie stood near by with the cups and saucers in her hands. “ Guess where we have been,” said Vera, taking her hat and cape off and laying them on the other table. “ Haven’t the least idea,” said Garnet, smoothing out an extraordinary large wrinkle in the tablecloth. “ You might as well tell us first as last.” “ Well,we’ve been to Mrs. Hood’s.” Garnet turned on her way to the closet. “ To Mrs. H0od’s? ” she asked, in amazement. “ What ever induced you to go there this afternoon? It was rather sudden, wasn’t it, not_to say—sly? ” “ Now, Net Dare,” said Jessie, “ we hadn’t the least idea of being sly, so don’t make that charge against us. You and Al were having it all to your- selves out on the piazza, and while I was up in our room trying to imagine what pleasure you could find in boys’ society, Vera came in and commenced 192 four (Birls at Gottage Gite. putting her things on. I asked her where she was going and if I couldn’t go with her. To make a long story short, we have been_to Mrs. Hood’s, and, oh, girls ”— here Jessie’s cheeks grew red— “ she is going to tell us the story of her life up to the present time ; that is, a good part of it; she told_ us a little of it this afternoon and we are going again to-morrow at the same hour, and she is going to tell us some more, and she has given you and Allie an invitation to come too, and—oh dear! I sup- pose I must be truthful and tell you that your two young gents are invited too ;'though mercy knows their room would be better than their company, to me, at least,” and Jessie sat down' in “ Mother’s” old fashioned rocker and leaned her head against its high back. “ Well,” said Garnet, turning once more to her work. “I’m sure that I shall be more than de- lighted to accept her invitation. Won’t you, Allie? How did you find little Robin?” “ You tell them about him, Ve,” said Jessie, closing her eyes wearily, and beginning to rock with all her might. Vera told them everything, and when she spoke ofJessie’s wishing to carry Robin something, she saw Garnet’s thoughtful face light up with a glad, surprised smile, and the next moment she crossed the room with her light, quick step, and put a soft, cool little hand on Jessie’s forehead. Jfour (Btrls at Glottage City. 193 “ Head-ache, dear?” she asked. Jessie rubbed her forehead against the hand, like a kitten. “A little bit," she murmured, lazily. “ But its because I’m so fearfully hungry.” Garnet smiled; she seldom laughed aloud. “That is a good kind of head-ache to have,” she said. “ You shall be satisfied in a very short time.” “I don’t know about being satisfied,” said Jessie. “What have we got for supper? If you love me, Net, don’t tell me it is the usual bowl of crackers and milk. I want something more solid than that to-night.” “Well, to tell the truth, Jess, that was what we were going to have, but if you feel like having something else, you shall have it. What would you like? ” “ Oh, something ; I don’t much care what. There’s lots of canned stuff over to the store. Why not try some, just for a change? And I’d like to know— ”' here Jessie sat upright in her chair— “ when we are going to have another good, square meal. It seems a year since we’ve had one.” The girls laughed. “ I’m with you, Jess,” said Vera. “ It is about time we patronized some restaurant. ‘ Grandma ’ says they give very good dinners at the Brockton House, right back here, at very reasonable prices, too. Suppose we go there to dinner to-morrow. ‘ Grandma ’ says they have five or six courses.” 194 jfour Girls at Gottage Gity. “ I second the motion,” said Jessie, emphatically. “ Well,” said Garnet. “ Do you know what they ask?” “ I’m not quite sure, but I think only thirty-five cents. Not more than fifty, anyway.” “ Phooh ! money’s no object,” said Jessie, throw- ing her empty purse into Vera’s lap. “ You’ll have to draw on the bank soon, win’t you Jess? ” asked Vera, pinching the purse. “ I’ll draw on something or somebody by and by ifI don’t have something to eat. Thought you were going out purchasing, Net.” “ Well, so I am,” said Garnet, taking her hat’ and shawl down from the nail behind the door. “ Who wants to go with me?” “ Not I, thank you,” said Jessie. “ I’m weary. “ I’ll go,” said Vera. When the two girls stepped out on the street, they were surprised to find a fine mist falling, and looking in the direction of the ocean, they saw the heavy fog come rolling up. “ Why, what a sudden change,” said Garnet. “ This dampness strikes deep.” “ It was commencing to cloud over when Jess and I came in,” said Vera. “ I guess we won’t go to the concert to-night. Do you think we had better?” “ No; we wouldn’t enjoy it very much. The boys wanted to know if we were going, and we told 77 Jfour Girls at Gottage Gite. 19$ them we expected to, so they were going to call for us. But they can stay and spend the evening in- stead, and we’ll give them some cocoa.” “Suppose We get some canned salmon, if they have any,” said Vera, as they went up the steps to the store. “ Do you like it?” “Very much; and so do Allie and Jess.” The salmon was purchased, and while Garnet was paying for it, Vera looked around the store. The next moment she nudged Garnet softly. Gar- net looked in the direction indicated by Vera’s ' eyes. There stood “ Mother,” dressed in her best black dress, shawl and bonnet. She was standing directly under one of the oil lamps and peering anxiously into an old leather pocket-book she held in her hands. While the girls looked, she shook the pocket-book gently and moved her long, thin fore-finger back and forth in one of the pockets, as if feeling for change. Her 'glasses rested on the extreme end of her nose, and either for this reason or because the light was so poor, she could not see. Finally she succeeded in bringing to light a piece of money, which she turned over and over, held it up to the light, felt of it, and then stood looking at it. “ Change, madam,” said the clerk, and Garnet turned with a start. Vera stepped quickly over to “ Mother.” 196 jfour (Birls at Gottage (Mty. “ Can I help you, ‘ Grandma?’ " Poor “ Mother ” turned at the sound of the sweet, young voice, and her dim eyes brightened. “ Oh, is it you, dear? I’m trying to find a ten cent piece, and I don’t know whether I’ve got it or not.” Vera looked at the piece of money. “ Yes, that is ten cents,” she said. “ I want to get a loaf of bread for supper,” went on “ Mother.” “ I’ve been doing some shopping —buying some cloth to make into pillow cases. I’ve got a few pair, but I’m afraid I shall need some more before summer is over.” i “ Mother” was evidently considerably excited over something. Her soft wrinkled cheeks were faintly pink, her blue eyes had quite a sparkle in them, and her manner was more than usually nervous and flurried. Vera couldn’t help smiling as she looked at her, and thought that she must have been a great beauty in her younger days. “ Let me get your bread for you, ‘ Grandma,’ ” she said. “ Well, if you will, I’ll be much obliged to you,” said “ Mother.” “ Is there anything else you’d like?” asked Vera. ' “Mother” turned and took up a large bundle from a barrel that stood near. “ Let me carry that for you,” said Vera. four'Girls at (Iottage Gity. I97 “ Thank you, thank 'you; it 75 rather heavy. No, there isn’t anything else Iwant to-night. Is that cheese over there?” she asked, suddenly. “ Yes ;'would you like some?” “ Well, now I would. Me and Mr. Atherton are both very fond of cheese.” “ Shall I get half a pound?” “ Well, now, I would like it so much, but I haven’t got another cent of change with me.” Vera smiled at the dear old lady’s innocent, but broad hint. “ Never mind, the change,” she said. “ I’ll get it for you. Net,” she whispered, “ ‘ Grandma ’ wants half a pound of cheese. Can we draw on the ‘ bank ’ for eight cents?” “I guess so,” whispered back Garnet, with a smile. After the cheese was purchased and paid for, “ Mother ” insisting on carrying that package her- self, they passed out of the store and down the steps. “ Mother” walked in the middle, with her left hand drawn through Vera’s arm. The girls were obliged to walk very slowly to accommodate their steps to her’s. When fairly on the street, “ Mother,” first looking cautiously over each shoulder to see . that no one heard the great news she was about to impart, said eagerly : “ Well, girls, we have got a new lodger.” Vera and Garnet smiled encouragingly, as “ Mother” turned her pleased face, first to one, then to the other. “ Oh, that is nice. Who is it?” 198 four (Birls at Gottage Gtty. “ Well, now, I can’t think of his name — he told it to me. Let me see— what was it? Well, I can find out when we get home, for it is printed on the lining of his coat, and he left that hanging on a nail in his room. It is a very nice coat, too —the braid is all sewed on by hand, and the coat is lined with good strong satin. He’s a young man, and I don’t think he is married — he doesn’t look so.” The girls, secretly wondering what mark dis- tinguished the married from the unmarried man, asked what room had been given to him. They asked questions, partly because they were really interested, but principally to please “ Mother.” She took such a childish delight in being “ important.” “ I’ve given him the room right opposite to your’s. I told him I had four girls staying with me, and that your room was across the hall from his, but he said he didn’t mind that.” The girls opened their eyes at this. The new lodger was evidently a cool young man. Vera felt very much like saying: “Well, if he won’t mind it, perhaps we will,” but she did not like to hurt “ Mother’s ” feelings, so instead she asked: “ Are you expecting many lodgers this summer?” “ Oh, yes, by and by. You see the season has scarcely set in yet; they don’t really get here until, the first of August. We always have our rooms all taken.” “ Then we might as well make hay while the Jfour Girls at Gottage Gity. 199 sun shines,” thought the girls. “ By and by we won’t have the privilege of occupying every room as we do now.” “ You seem to understand the business, ‘ Grand- ma,’ ”'said Garnet, pleasantly. “ You like it, don’t you?” “Oh, yes, dear; very much. Yes, me and Mr. Atherton understand letting rooms pretty well. You see, our home is in Cambridge, and we used to let rooms to the students at Harvard. Then my grandsons-three of them — used to live with us while they were attending college there. Its lots of care, though— lots of care.” Vera opened the gate to let “ Mother” pass through. “ Yes, it must be quite a responsibility,” she said. “ But you understand making it very pleasant for your lodgers, ‘ Grandma.’” “Mother” smiled proudly as she took her loaf of bread from Garnet, and went up the steps that led to the summer kitchen, where she and “ Grandpa” 'took their meals. “ Where would you like for me to put this cloth, ‘ Grandma, ’ ” asked Vera. “Oh, would you just as soon take it up to my room?” “ Certainly.” “Then me and Mr. Atherton can' go right up after we have some tea and tear off the pillow cases, and I can lay the hem before I go to bed.” jfour Girls at Gottage Gitig. 261 pretend to be so poor are just the ones that have the full pocket-book.” ' “ Do you think ‘ Grandpa ’ and ‘ Grandma ’ have any money? ” asked Allie. “ They don’t dress nicely at all, and just see how pleased they are when we give them any little thing we have left over from our meals.” Jessie laughed merrily. “ Hear Al,” she said. “ Anybody’d think we were some of the tonies. How much do we generally have left over, young lady? Ibelieve we had a few lobster claws last night, and—ware there any herring tails left over from breakfast this morning?” All the girls laughed as they seated themselves around the table. “ I think ‘ Grandpa ’ and ‘ Grandma ’ have quite a sum of money put by, from the few things that ‘ Grandma ’ has let drop when she has been talking with me,” said Garnet. “ Don’t you know, as some people grow old, they get into the habit of thinking that unless they count every penny, and make it go as far as they can, they will end their days in the poor-house. One would imagine to see ‘Grandpa’ and ‘Grandma,’ that they were very poor, indeed, but I am quite sure they have a plenty to keep them comfortably the rest of their lives.” “Just what I say,” said Jessie, holding up a piece of salmon on the end of her fork and eyeing it admiringly before putting it into her mouth. .- 202 Jfour Girls at (Iottage cum. “ How strange it seems to be eating by lamp- light,” said Vera. “ But it grew dark early to-night.” “ By the way,” said Allie, taking her cup of cocoa from Garnet’s hand. “You didn’t tell us who the new lodger is.” “ Prepare yourself, Jess,” said Vera. “ I don’t mean to be cruel and spoil your supper, but—its a man.” “ Wkat’s a man?” asked Jessie, with charming directness. > “ It; the new lodger.” Jessie dropped both knife and fork, and sank back in her chair with an expression of complete discouragement on her face, but suddenly, bethink- ing herself of the delicious salmon on her plate, she immediately straightened herself in her chair, only saying: “ Well, I might as well stop trying now.” “ Stop trying what?” asked the girls. “ Oh, keeping you girls away from the men, or the men away from you —I don’t know which.” “ Don’t, Jess,” said Vera, in mock dismay. “ Perhaps we’ll never have another chance of asso- ciating with the fascinating creatures. You know they are rather scarce articles up our way.” “ And just as well for you that they are,” retorted Jessie. “ What is that now? ” she asked, suddenly. “ If that doesn’t sound like Fred Travers whistling ‘ Little Fisher Maiden.’ ” i ____i, Jfour (Btrls at Gottage Gtty}. 203 Garnet laughed. ' ' “ Is it, Garnet Dare?” asked Jessie, sternly. “ Well, I suppose it is. We were intending to go to the band concert, but it is so misty and damp we’ll let them come in and spend the evening instead. So run and let them in, while we clear this table — that’s a good little girl.” “If I let them in I won’t have to help clear the table, will I?” asked Jessie, standing irresolutely. “ No. Run; quick!” “ Nor wash dishes, either?” “ No.” “ Nor wipe?” “ No, no, no! Hurry!” Jessie disappeared. “You go in there, too, Allie,” said Garnet, sud- denly. “Jess will commit herself in some way or another if she is left alone. She is as bad as ‘ Miss Edith, who helped things along.’ ” The girls did not- stop to wash the dishes, and ’ when they entered the parlor they found Fred and Erfort apparently enjoying themselves greatly, and very much at home, indeed. Jessie’s tongue was going rapidly; her cheeks glowed, and her eyes flashed. Allie was listening smilingly. “ I’m telling them all about our visit this after- noon, Vera,” said Jessie. “ And they say they will be glad to go with us to-.morrow.” “That will be pleasant,” said Vera, taking the low, willow rocker that Fred handed to her. CHAPTER XV. “ Miss Jessie has interested us deeply by her pleasing account of your visit to Mrs. Hood and Robin, Miss Earle,” said Erfort. “We shall be most happy to continue our acquaintance with them.” “ Oh, I am sure you will enjoy listening to her,” said Vera, earnestly. “I think she is a most lovely woman.” “ But the poor little boy,” said Fred, with a seri- ousness that was entirely new with ’him. “ I don’t know when I 'have felt so sorry for anyone.” “ I know it,” returned Vera. “ He is a perfect little hero.” “Well, he is,” replied Fred, heartily. “ He makes me ashamed of myself. I have thought about him a great deal since the day we were there.” “ Little Robin is a hero, and his mother is one of earth’s noblest heroines,” said Erfort. “How she can hear her heavy cross as she does, I can’t imagine.” “ I know,” said Jessie, softly, and with a bright blush. All turned and looked at her inquiringly. Jfour Girls at Gottage Gity. 205 “She has some one to help her,” said Jessie, with the blush growing deeper. “I said to her to-night, that ‘there was no justice in it,’ and she said: ‘ Oh, don’t dare to say that. It is God’s will, and He is an all-wise and an all-merciful God.”’ Jessie’s voice was very low. Fred looked at her in astonishment, for a moment, then he drew his chair a little nearer to her and rested his hand on the back of her rocker. “ How can anyone doubt the satisfaction the christian derives from his or her religion?” said Erfort, earnestly “ Even the most skeptical can- not but see and acknowledge the great comfort it brings to them.” “I wonder,” said Fred, “how anyone feels when they experience religion.” “ Haven’t you ever heard one say? ” asked Gar- net?” “ Yes, I have heard different experiences, but, ' really and truly, it has seemed to me that every one I have ever heard were not sincere.” “ Why, Fred Travers l ” exclaimed Jessie. Fred’s face flushed. “I know I’ve no right to judge,” he said 'quickly, “and I don’t mean to. But that is really the impression they gave me. Not one of them ever made me in the least feel that I would like to meet with the change.” “ Then your heart was not right,” said Erfort. 206 your Girls at Gottage Gitiy. “ Do you mean to tell us, Fred, that you have lived to be twenty-four years old, and have never felt like being a christian ?” F red’s blue eyes looked steadily back into the dark ones so earnestly fixed upon his face. “ I never have,” he said. All were quiet for a moment, then Erfort said: “ I have.” ' The dark, expressive face wore a very sad look. Vera said, impulsively: “ Won’t you tell us about it, Mr. Richards?” “ There isn’t very much to tell. I attended a prayer-meeting at one of the smaller churches at home one Sunday evening. Now, please do not imagine that this was a rare thing for me to do, for it was not. I have always attended Sunday ser- vices very regularly ever since I can remember. Of late years I have gone more to please mother than anything else, but I have gone nevertheless. It was not a revival meeting; if it had been I am positive I would not have had the desire that I am about to speak of. If I am ever converted it will not be at a revival —I don’t like them, and I have no faith in conversions that take place under such influences. The speaker was an old gentleman, rather slow and prosy, too. The singing was something dreadful, but there was a poor old lady there—I can see just how she looked now. She had on an old, rusty, black dress, shawl and 208 jfour (Btrls at Gottage Wy. 4 door she turned and put her hand on my shoulder and said : ‘ God bless you, whoever you may be. There must be a happy mother somewhere.’ I have never forgotten that," said Erfort, looking around on the earnest faces. “ It has had its influ- ence on my life. I have heard,” he continued, after a pause, “ as doubtless you have, many times, that each one has his or her chance of redemption —only one. I don’t believe that. I think so long as one lives, it is never too late to receive the bless- ing. I think that the longer one neglects to see to his soul’s salvation, the harder it is for him to do it, but the loss is all his. He loses many years of deep happiness. If one feels the desire to become better — if their hearts are really touched — if they realize fully, as I did, that an opportunity has pre- sented itself, and they give themselves up, then and there, I think they receive a deeper, richer bless- ing, than they do if they wait years, months, or, perhaps, only weeks, for the second opportunity, and then, besides, they have all that time in which to grow in grace. It is dangerous to wait for the ‘ second opportunity,’ for sometimes one is called away before it comes. I have always deeply regretted my lack of moral courage.” “ Don’t you think,” said Jessie, “that you thought of self too much, that night?” The others were surprised to hear such a grave question from “little Jess,” but Erfort answered, quickly: 2w Jfour Girls at Gottage Git?. “ You have found Him the first, Allie; but, per- haps, you can help us find Him, before long.” “ If I only could ! ” murmured Allie, fervently. ’ Garnet just touched Allie’s hair lightly with her little hand, and then she commenced to clear the table of its books and small articles. “Cocoa?” asked Fred, gaily, springing to his feet and assisting her. “Oh, Er, aren’t you glad you are living?” “ We are to have a new lodger, to-morrow, boys,” said Vera, putting the cups on the table. “ And ‘ Grandma ’ expects more in a few days, so drink your cocoa and be happy while you may.” The boys’ faces fell. They would miss the evenings in the bright little parlor. “ Oh, what a shame ! ” said Fred. “ That will spoil all our fun. Who is coming to-morrow? ” “ A m-a-n,” said Vera, impressively. Fred made a movement of disgust. “ He’llbe cutting us out, Er,” he said, half meaning what he said. ’ “ Now, you won’t give him cocoa, too; will you?” said Erfort, watching Garnet’s busy little hands as she prepared the delicious beverage. “ Perhaps he will not care' to have us,” said Vera, remembering what “ Mother ” had said about the gentleman’s “ not minding’them.” ' “Well, we’ll hope for the . best,” said Fred‘ “ But I guess ‘ Barkis will be willin’ enough.’ ” Jfour Girls at Gottage Gity. 211 Vera clasped her hands. “ Oh, Mr. Travers, do you read Dickens? ” Fred made a wry face. “ No, thanks.” Vera looked disappointed. “I do, Miss Earle,” said Erfort, noticing her- look of disappointment. “ Oh, do you? Isn’t he perfectly splendid? ” Vera’s eyes shone and she involuntarily drew her chair nearer to Erfort’s. Fred immediately deter- mined to commence to martyr himself the first thing the next morning. A few of Dickens’ works were in the “ Library ” — he would get one and read it if it sent him to the insane asylum. “If you want Vera to love you, you must love Dickens,” said Jessie, innocently. “It is ‘love me, love my Dickens,’ with her.” “ I will worship him immediately,” said Fred. “ Nonsense ! ” said Vera, scornfully, and then she turned eagerly to Erfort. “ Which of his books do you like the best, Mr. Richards? ” “ Martin Chuzzlewit.” “ Oh, do you? Well, that is a splendid story. One meets with a great many ‘ Pecksniffs ’ in this life'. (Vera spoke with the air of an octogenarian at least.) But my favorite is ‘ David Copperfield.’- I have read that so many times that it really seems as though the characterswere real living beings._ They seem much more real to me than people jfour Girls at Gottage Gttt2~ with whom I meet in real life. Poor little ‘Dora l’ I love her—well, much better than some real people that I know.” , Erfort smiled. “ You are an enthusiast. But do you think it is well for you to feel so intensely, what is, after all, only imagination?” Vera looked serious. “I have asked myself that question more than once, and have never answered it satisfactorily. I can tell no one what a peculiar effect the reading of Dickens’ books has on me. They do not make me dissatisfied with real life; but while I am reading them, it seems just as though I am living in a world peopled only with Dickens’ characters. I can see and talk with them all. I love, like, respect, dislike, despise each one, according to the impression he or she makes on me. ‘Dora,’ ‘Agnes,’ ‘ Uriah Heep,’ ‘ Miss Bet- sey,’ ‘ Rose Dartle,’ ‘ Steerforth,’ ‘ Little Em’ly,’ ‘ Pecksniff,’ ‘ Mercy,’ ‘ Charity,’ ‘ Martin,’ ‘ Mark Tapley,’ ‘ Little Dorrit,’ ‘ Dolly Varden,’ ‘ Emma Haredale,’ ‘ The Maypole Cronies,’ ‘ Barnaby Rudge,’ ‘ Nicholas Nickleby’— oh, dear! all or them,” and Vera leaned back in her chair with a deep sigh. “ I saw the questions : ‘ Who is Dickens’noblest character?’ and ‘ Who is his worst character?’ in an educational paper once,” went on Vera. “And I answered ‘ Little Dorrit ’ to the former, and ‘Jonas Chuzzlewit’ to the latter. What do you think?” 214 your Girls at Gottage Gitt. Jessie made a little face and went back to Allie and Fred. “ May I come and talk, too?” asked Garnet. I also, am an ardent admirer of Dickens. As an acquaintance of mine says: ‘ I love Dickens very dearly.”’ , “What a deuced happy chap that old fellow ought to be,” said Fred, who, from the table, over- heard Garnet’s remark, “to have all the ladies in love with him.” “ He is dead, Fred,” said Garnet, with rather more solemnity than the occasion warranted. In- deed, her voice was full of awe. “ Oh, I beg his pardon,” said Fred, meekly, and took a cup of cocoa. “Who do you think is his noblest character, Miss Dare?” asked Erfort. “ ‘ Little Dorrit.’ ” ‘ And his worst? ” “ ‘Jonas Chuzzlewit.’ ” Erfort looked from one to the other. Vera smiled. “ We have discussed those questions before,” she said. “ Why do you think ‘ Jonas ’ his worst charac- ter? There is ‘ Daniel Oxuilp.’ Surely nothing could be more repulsive. And ‘Bill Sykes’ and ‘ Fagin ’— how despicable l ” “Yes, we know,” said Vera. “ But ‘Jonas’ did not have one redeeming quality. He was ugly, 216 jfour Girls at Gottage Gitiy. Horrible woman ! But do you know, nothing that Dickens has written amuses me more than the ‘ Maypole Cronies,’ in ‘ Barnaby Rudge.’ Weren’t they too comical for anything? especially John Willet.” “ The wise John,” said Erfort. “ We see a good many such as he. How they did like to gossip. But you have not told me what you think of ‘ Edith Granger,’ in ‘ Dombey and Son.’ ” “ I always feel like shaking her,” said Vera. “ She acted very foolishly. To use an expression that is more adaptable than elegant, it always seemed to me that she ‘ bit off her nose to spite her face.’ ” “ That is true,” said Garnet. “ But I pitied her.” “ That is just like you, Net,” said Vera. “ Pity the foolish ones.” ' “I pity the bitter ones,” said Garnet. “ Those who have lost faith in everything and everybody, even in themselves. When t/zat time comes, life cannot be worth the living. Nothing seems so sad to me, as not being able to trust anyone. I say, hold on to your faith in people as long as you pos- sibly can. There can be no happiness where there is no faith.” “You agree with ‘ Frances Anne Butler,”’ said Vera : Jfour Girls at Gottage Gin). 217 “ ‘ Better trust all and be deceived And weep that trust and that deceiving, Than doubt one heart, which, if believed, Had blessed one’s life with true believing. Oh! in’this mocking world, too fast The doubting fiend o’ertakes our youth ; Better be cheated to the last Than lose the blessed hope of truth i ’ ” “ She expresses my sentiments, exactly,” said Garnet. “It is a blessed thing to be able to trust those whom we call our friends,” said Erfort. “I think nothing changes a man’s whole life—not to say his character—so throughly, as having his trust be- trayed. Unless one’s will-power and strength of character is very great, indeed, finding one’s self deceived in one’s friend—that is, a friend one has loved very dearly and trusted implicitly—makes one very bitter and skeptical, and spoils one’s whole life. It is wrong, for the whole world ought not to be judged by one; but it is hard to trust when you have once been deceived.” “ But it is sinful to allow the infidelity of even a dear friend to spoil one’s whole life,” said Garnet. “ One’s pride ought to keep them from that, if nothing else would.” “Pride will do a great deal for one,” said Vera. “ IfI were ever deceived in anyone, no one would 218 four (BirIs at Gottage Gite. ever know how badly I might feel. Ofcourse it is a terrible thing to happen to anyone, but there is no need of letting the whole world know of it, or of its making your life miserable. By the way, Mr. Richards, that makes me think of a little ditty of Tennyson’s, in which he proves traitor to his sex.” “ What is it? Please repeat it.” “ Oh, you must have read it.” “ ‘ Sigh no more ladies, sigh no more, Men were deceivers ever; One foot in sea, and one on shore, To one thing constant, never.’ ” “ There is a case where the man was most de- plorably lost in the poet,” said Erfort. “ I am ashamed of my Lord Tennyson.” Just here Jessie came over to them, with a grieved expression on her face. “Aren’t we going to have any fun to-night, girls? I think you are real hateful to get ofl" by yourselves in this way and talk on your horrid, dry subjects.” “ Well, bless her little heart,” said Vera, smooth- ing the wrinkles away in Jessie’s forehead, “ we’ll do anything you say for half an hour, now. What is it? ” . “ Play ‘ Consequences,’ ” said Jessie. four Girls at Gottage Gity. 219 When at 9.30 the young men went to their hotel, it would have been hard to tell which of the young people was in the greatest hurry for 4 o’clock of the next day to come, that they might go to the home of Charlotte Hood, and hear more of the interesting story of her life. ' CHAPTER X V I . On the following afternoon, at about 3:30, the girls were sitting on the front piazza, waiting for Erfort and Fred. A tall, broad-shouldered man came through the gate, and just glancing at the girls, crossed the lawn and knocked at the door of the parlor where the girls “served their .cocoa.” Vera, knowing that “Mother” was up in her room,‘ looking over a big chest of bed linen, and that “Grandpa” was out in the summer kitchen, whispered to 'the girls: ’ “ Shall I tell him?” They nodded their heads and Vera rose from ~ her chair and went towards him. He turned his head, and seeing her near him, raised his hat. “ Uriah Heep,” went like a flash through .Vera’s mind. She bowed in a dignified manner, and said: “ You would like to see the lady of the house?’ “If you please.” The gentleman’s manner was pleasant enough, but Vera did not like the expression of his eyes. They were not mates in color, one being blue and the other gray, and they were set too close to- gether. But then, the poor man could not help that. Jfonr Girls at Gottage Gitig. 221 “ If you will take a chair,” said Vera, motion- ing to the one she had been occupying, “ I will call Mrs. Atherton.” “Thank you,” replied the gentleman. “You are very kind.” Vera went out to the kitchen and notified '“ Grandpa,” and then up stairs to “ Mother.” “ Mother” was flustrated at once, and the thin, nervous, white hands went up to the pretty hair immediately. “ Oh, it must be Mr. Wild, my new lodger,” she said, and her voice trembled with excitement. “ Will you pass me my cap, dear, and is my’hair smooth in the back? I’ll put on this black silk apron. Dear, dear! it’s a blessed thing I made up his bed and put his room to rights this morning. Now I’m ready, I guess. Did you say he was'out on the piazza? ” Vera replied that he was, and helped “ Mother” down the stairs. “ Grandpa ” was hovering in an uncertain manner between the stairs and the door, but “ Mother ” very soon made his place known to him. ' “I’ll speak with him, Mr. Atherton,” she said, primly, and the thin hand held him back. The gentleman, who had been making himself agreeable to the girls, rose as “ Mother” and Vera appeared in the doorway, and bowed low with his hat in his hand. “ Mother” invited him into the 222 Jfour Girls at Gottage Gity. house with the air of a duchess. Seeing Erfort and Fred appearing in the “near distance,” the girls went to meet them. “I don’t like that man’s face,” said Jessie, as soon as they had left the piazza. “ He looks like a sneak to me.” “ ’Sh, Jessie,” said Garnet. “ We ought not to' judge. He may be a very nice man.” “ Don’t believe it,” said Jessie, stoutly. “He looked like a wolf when he grinned.” “[ didn’t like the looks of his hands,” said Garnet, meditatively. They made me think of ‘ Uriah Heep.’ ” Vera turned quickly. “Just what I said to my- self when I spoke to him,” she said. “ I believe there was really a ‘ Uriah ’ and this man is a de- scendent of his.” “ How do you do, ladies,” said Fred. “What is the subject of discussion this afternoon?” “We have just had a glimpse of our new lodger,” said Vera. “What is the impression received?” “ Not particularly favorable.” “ Good! I guess we are all right for the cocoa.” “.Is he a large, smooth-faced man, with a ‘Uriah Heep-like’ face?” asked Erfort. The girls broke into a' merry laugh,' and in reply to Erfort’s look of surprise', Garnet explained to jfour (Bins at Gottage Gtto. 223 him the reason of the laugh, and they all com- menced a lively discussion as to the advisability of allowing an acquaintance to spring up between them and the new lodger. It was done more for the sake of something to talk about than for any- thing else, and although no good came from it, yet no harm came from it either. But right here let me warn my readers against practicing this habit—discussing the qualities, good, bad and indifferent, of your friends and ac- quaintances, or even people whom you know only by sight, merely for the sake of something to talk about. Better let your tongue keep silent forever, than run the risk of hurting anyone in the eyes of others. How often have we read the valuable advice—although I cannot now recall the one who gave it: “ Never speak of a person unless you can say something good of him. If you know of nothing good, then say nothing.” It is very seldom, if ever, that we meet with anyone who has not one good quality. Make the most of that one good quality, then, and it will surprise you how much pleasure you derive from doing this. We have all heard, of course, that “ Money is the root of all evil.” I would like to change the word “ Money ” to that of “ Gossip.” “ Gossip is the. root of all evil.” Methinks I hear a loud ~ “ Amen! ” from the many persecuted ones. 224 four Girls at Gottage Gitt. When our party reached the cottage of Charlotte Hood, they found the door wide open. As they stood hesitatingly on the steps, Mrs. Hood called to_ them from the sitting-room to come right in. She was propping Robin up in bed. The little childish face was unusually pale and drawn to-day, and there were deep shadows under the beautiful eyes. The temples, too, looked sunken. It was a sad, sad sight for our young people to see, and their hearts were softened and filled with pity. Poor little baby suffererl It could not seem right to them for this thing to be. , But Mrs. Hood greeted them with a bright smile, as she placed the “ Noah’s Ark ” within reach of the little thin hands. “ Come right in and be seated, please. My boy has not had a very good day so far, but he is better now, and so glad to see you all.” Robin smiled as each one stopped at his bedside and spoke to him, and he put up his mouth as Jes- sie bent over him. The glowing girlish face was pressed tenderly against the thin, pale one, and the red lips touched lovingly the white, parched ones. Erfort and Fred seated themselves on the lounge, Vera took the rocking-chair, Allie sat on the foot of the bed and leaned against the foot-board, Gar- net took a low chair and rested her elbow in Vera’s , lap, Jessie sat in a high chair close to Robin’s pillow, and Mrs. Hood, with her mending basket by her side, sat near the open window. Jessie proceeded four Girls at Gottage Gity. 225 at once to the “ business of the afternoon,” with her usual charming directness. “ Please begin right away, Mrs. Hood, we want to hear you so badly, and it seemed as if the hour yesterday afternoon fairly flew. We have told the others what you have told us, and they are as eager to hear more as Vera and I.” Garnet looked almost scandalized at Jessie’s abruptness, but Mrs. Hood seemed pleased. “ One hour z'sn’t very long sometimes,” she replied. “ I am very happy to have interested you all and will continue my little story with pleasure: After the revival meeting which I told you about, I felt very strangely. I was exceedingly happy, yet quietly so. Iwas submissive to my older sisters and cousins, which was something so very wonder- ful that they were more than surprised, and spoke of it many times. At last, one day, about a week after the meeting, it seemed to me as though my heart would burst with its weight of love and hap- piness. Mother sent me up stairs to the porch chamber after some pieces for a rag carpet, which she was making. I entered the room and closed the door. I sank down on my knees in the middle of the dim, dusky garret, and called on God to help me, out of the very depths of my untutored, childish heart. Oh, I will never forget the glory of that moment. As I prayed, the room was filled with a bright light, which almost dazzled my'eyes. It 226 jfour Girls at Gottage Gite. was not imagination, and I was not foolishly excited. It was something that was real. I have never had just that same experience since, though I have had many glorious moments. I do not know how long I had been in the garret, but all at once mother’s voice sounded sharply at the foot of the stairs: ‘ Charlotte, where be you? I’m waitin’ for them rags.’ Ah, the glory faded in a second; the light was all gone from the room, but it still lingered in my heart. I sprang hastily to my feet, snatched up the rags from the floor, and hastened down stairs ; eager hope in my heart, eager words tremb- ling on my lips. But as I entered the kitchen, the sight of Betsey Ann Doane—the gossip of the town — sitting in the big cushioned chair, needles and tongue running a race together, met my eyes. The words died on my lips, and as I placed the basket of rags at mother’s feet, the bitterness of the disappointment brought the tears to my eyes. I ran from the room for fear the small, snapping ' black eyes of Betsey Ann would see them, and in a few moments I was lying full length on a soft bed of pine-needles, looking up through the green branches to the blue sky and wondering why God, if He knew how I felt and how I had longed to tell mother all about it, should have put it into Betsey Ann’s heart to make us a call on this particular afternoon. I was young — nothing but a child— but I had so soon commenced to question God’s 228 your (Birls at ttottage (titty. family than our’s could not be found on all the Cape. In the fall our cellar was filled, as usual, with everything that was good, for the following winter’s use. In November, father made a trip to New Orleans, and it was while he was gone that a very sad thing happened. Hannah, Emeline and Deborah had commenced to go to dancing school, and they'were all carried away with the pleasures of it. They cleared the floor of the porch chamber, and they, with cousins Abbie, Modina and Patience, would get up there in the evening and practice the round dances. Sometimes Johial and I would creep up the stairs, and with our heads just show- ing over the top one, would sit and watch them. They never saw us, until one night they were try- ing a new step. Hannah, our most dignified sister, slipped on the smooth floor, and in her efforts to save herself, went through with such a comical gymnastic exercise, thatI giggled and Jo burst into a loud laugh. Hannah wouldn’t let us watch any more, although I teased hard, for the young men came after that and practiced with them and I wanted to watch the fun. The girls were always fixing over their dresses, to wear dancing-school night, and one evening we were all sitting around the table. Mother and the girls were sewing. Deb was at work on a very pretty brown poplin dress, with pink ribbon, on which I looked with admiring, covetous eyes. I had teased hard to sit up until 8 Jfour Girls at Gottage Gity. 229 o’clock and watch the work go on, and mother had let me — for a wonder. Of course iflwas going to sit up, 70 was, but as he wasn’t longing for a brown dress with pink hows, the making of it didn’t particularly interest him, and long before 8 o’clock he was lying on the floor, under the table, fast asleep. Oh, I can see him now! He wore a col; ored apron with long sleeves. He had taken ofi" his shoes and stockings, and he lay with one arm thrown up over his head, and his little brown legs drawn up. My precious little brother! How the terrible thing that happened was done, we hardly knew, but one of the girls pushed her chair up against the table, as she bent to pick up a spool of thread that had fallen on the floor, and the next moment the lamp rolled off the table, and went crashing down right on poor little sleeping Johial. Another moment and he was _one cruel blaze. We all screamed, and that is about all we did do for a moment. Emeline went towards the door with an idea of running over to get Aunt Thankful. As she passed the sink she saw the pail of water that was always left in it at night, and, seizing this, she threw the water on Joe. It extinguished the flames at once, but, oh, the poor, little, darling boy! It seems as ifI can hear mother’s cry now, as she bent over him and took him up in her arms. She carried him into her room and laid him on the bed,- and then Aunt Thankful and one of the neighbors, 230 four Girls at Gottage Gite. whom the girls had called, came in, and in their excitement they hardly knew what they did. They did not think to unbutton the band around his wrists, but pulled the sleeves right over his hands, and I screamed as I saw the tender flesh come with it. They sent me out of the room then, but I hid in the corner near the door, and when the doctor came I slipped in with him, and they were so busy they didn’t notice me. The doctor must have been a very ignorant man, for he swathed Jo in cotton from head to foot. He had to lie in this way for a long while, and for weeks he could not open his eyes. How I longed to bear the pain for him, and how patient he was ! When they took the bandages away, his fair, soft skin was disfigured for life with cruel white scars, but he was Jo just the same; scars would never change my brother to me, and when he opened his blue eyes and looked at me with the old, sweet, loving smile, I just lay down on the bed beside him, and put my arms around his neck and cried for joy. When he got so he could sit up, I used to go out into the snow and make a regular little clown of myself, just for the sake of seeing him laugh. I would make believe slip up ~ and would go rolling over and over in the deep snow. I would dance the ‘ Fisher’s Hornpipe.’ I even went so far as to turn a somersault, and then how Jo did laugh! When I got ready to go out, mother would lift him from the lounge to the big ifour Girls atGottage Gity. 231 green chest in front of the window, and with the sugar tub at his back to prop him up, Jo would sit and Watch me by the hour. It was the latter part of March before he was able to go out, and for a long while he was obliged to limp along with a stick. One of his legs had been so badly burned that it would never be the same as before. The doctor said that it would gradually grow stronger, so that in.a few months he would be able to go with- out the stick, but he was afraid that there would always be a slight limp. I think I suffered almost as much as Jo. It seemed as though I could not bear the thoughts of my darling brother being almost a cripple all his life, besides having his beau- tiful face marred by the scars.” Mrs. Hood stopped for a moment and looked at Robin. “ Ah ! ” she said, almost passionately, “do _not think it strange that I should worship /zim as I do,' for I am loving two in one. My brother lives again in my boy.” Then she went on more quietly : “Jo was a proud child for one so young, and for this reason his aflliction seemed all the harder. I used to sit and watch him when he slept, and many times I have fallen on my knees beside his lounge and almost cried my heart out. I didn’t pray to God to help us both, but I blamed Him for sending this great trouble to Jo. ‘ Why had He done it?’ I used to ask, with passionate pain and anger. 232 Jfour (Birls at Gottage Gtty. ‘ What had my innocent little brother ever done to be punished in this way? ’ He had always been a much better child than I-—sweeter-dispositioned, more obedient, more lovable. I reproached God bitterly out of the anger and pain of my childish heart, but instead of punishing me for it, Ithink He pitied me, for He knew how well I loved my brother, and how unselfishly. During the month ofjanuary there was the heaviest snow storm there had been for many years. Father had gone with Uncle Daniel, his youngest brother, and the favor- ite child of both grandfather and grandmother, up the Kennebec for lumber. We knew they were out on the night of the storm, and none of us slept for the night. He was to have been home that same week, but the days passed and he did not come. Child though I was, and usually a thought- less one, I saw how mother was suffering from ’suspense, although she never murmured once. She was then, as always, a ‘ silent sufferer.’ 'She never once neglected her children to sit down and mourn, but many a time I had seen her steal away to the clothes-press, in the spare room where father’s clothes hung, and, taking the garments, one by one, hold them close to her face for a moment and then put them back lingeringly and lovingly, and when she came out there would always be a happy smile on her face. I could not imagine why she did this. I wanted to know, but jfour (Btrls at Gottage Gity}. 233 did not dare to ask her. One day Deborah saw me watching. Deborah was always kind to me, and I was never afraid to have her catch me doing what I ought not to, though I think she was going to correct me this day, but I said eagerly: ‘ Oh, Deb, what does mother do that for?’ Deborah knew what I meant, but she said: ‘Do what?’ ‘Why, rub father’s clothes against her cheek.’ Deborah’s eyes filled with tears, but she smiled at my question and said: ‘She was not rubbing them against her cheek.’ ‘ What was she doing?’ ‘Smelling of them.’ My eyes must have been perfectly round with astonishment, for Deborah smiled even more, as she asked: ‘Don’t you know what she does it for?’ I shook my head emphatically. ‘Why, to see if father is—is— drowned—or —not.’ Deborah’s eyes overfiowed, now, and she sobbed bitterly. I cried, too, but my curiosity had been much excited and demanded gratification. ‘ And -— how — can — she — tell?’ I asked, between my sobs. Deborah waited a moment, until she could speak without crying: ‘Why, if his clothes smell like dead folks, he is dead, and if they don’t, be is living.’ I was much awed by this information, and then I happened to think that mother’s face had always worn a smile every time I had seen her come from the room, and I cried, gladly: ‘Well, he isn’t drownded, Deb, for mother always looks glad, after she has _____ ____i,I-ii" 234 jfour Girls at Gottage Gity. smelt of his clothes.’ Of course I had to tellJo all about it, and for the next two or three daysl spent the most of my time in the spare-room clothes- press, smelling of father’s clothes. No one knew it except Jo. One night, just before lamp light, about three weeks after the storm, the family were all sitting around the open fire-place in the kitchen, except Jo, who, had been put to bed, but he lay where he could look out at them all. Betsey Ann Doane had ‘ dropped in’ to console with mother , and hear the latest news, ifthere were any. Aunt Thankful, too, was there, and her girls. I was in the clothes-press for about the twelfth time that day. All at once I heard the outside door close. There was nothing in that, of course, but, somehow or other, it made my heart jump. I ran from the room, and, as I stood in the long passage- way that led to the kitchen, the inside door opened and closed quickly. Then I heard one cry—not a loud one, but more like a half moan, and I reached the kitchen door at a bound. All I saw was a tall, broad-shouldered, snow-cov- ered form, for the head was bent over mother, and the arms were wrapped tightly around her. Yes, it was father come home again. Oh, how we all cried and hung upon him, kissed, hugged and almost strangled him. There had been loud screams from the girls and both younger children. Emeline even went so far as to faint away; but Jfour Girls at Gottage Gtiy. 235 Emeline was always the lady of the family, and we none of us thought it strange that she should be the one to do this lady-like act. Mother, with the worried look all gone from her face, bustled around to get father’s supper, while the girls unbuttoned Emeline’s dress and held the camphor bottle to her pretty nose. I drew father into the bed-room to see Jo, and when mother called him to supper, he appeared in the kitchen with Jo wrapped in blankets, in his arms. ‘Don’t scold, mother,’ he said (as if there were any danger of it on that night of all nightsl). ‘It won’t hurt him, andI must hold my little man to-night, anyway.’ After supper father drew his chair to the fire and said, gravely: ‘I have something to tell you all.’ I knew there was something that had happened, for father’s usually merry blue eyes had looked so sad, even when he had been smiling. We were all anxious to hear what had happened to keep him away for so long. Of course Aunt Thankful and the girls had stayed to hear, and so had Betsey Ann, though she had feebly suggested going home to tell thefolks that ‘ Cap’n Phillips had cum hum all right,’ when father had sat down to supper. I knew that wild horses couldn’t have dragged her away until she had heard the whole story; butI was too happy to care how long she stayed, and so we all drew near the fire to listen.” jfour tBtrIs at ¢ottage (tity. ~ 231 got over to me, after a good deal of slipping and falling, and we sat on the stairs the rest of the night, almost frozen, but not daring to stir. It seemed to us as though the vessel was turned almost upside down. About 5 o’clock the next morning, the wind commenced to go down, and it didn’t snow nearly so hard, but the cold became unendurable. As it grew light we saw that the vessel was lying over on her side, between the two great cakes of ice. None of the boys were left on her; Dan’l and I were the only ones there.’ Father stopped here and brushed the tears out of his eyes. Mother put her apron up to her face, the girls gave little gasps of horror, and Betsey Ann exclaimed : ‘ The Lud have mercy on us! What be you a-tellin’ of us, Warren Phillips?’ Then father went on, only interrupted now and then by Betsey Ann exclaim- ing: ‘ What be you a-tellin’ of us, Cap’n Phillips?’ ‘ Me and Dan’l sat on the stairs and groaned with the cold. We longed for the vessel to right herself '—we wouldn’t have cared much if she had gone over the other way and sent us to the bottom with the other boys, we were suffering so. Along towards IO o’clock we felt the water heave under us, the vessel commenced to move gently from side to side; we knew that the ice was separating. We waited. As far as I was con- cerned I wouldn’t have given a shuck if we had both been pitched into the river, I was so cold. 238 jfour (Birls at ¢ottage Mtg. But we were not. She slowly righted herself, and then she commenced to drift along. The masts were gone; we could do nothing but move slowly about to get warm. The deck was like a looking- glass. We slipped along on it for a little while, and at last Dan’l sank down on it all ofa heap. ‘ I’m’ freezing, Warren,’ he said. I didn’t know what I was doing, but I commenced to dance on the slip- pery deck, and I shouted: ‘ Dance, Dan’l, dance!’ ‘ I can’t, Warren,’ said he, and he stretched him- self out and closed his eyes, and in a little while he was dead." Mother threw her apron down from her eyes and seized father’s arm with both hands. ‘ Warren ! ’ she cried, ‘ Dead ! Dan’l dead ! Oh, poor mother ! ’ and she commenced to cry. So did the girls and we younger ones, and Betsey Ann rocked back and forth in her chair and wrung her hands and the stocking she was knitting, and groaned: ‘ Oh, Ludl Oh, Lud! Oh, Lud a mercy!’ ‘ Yes, he died. Poor Dan’l; poor boy ! ’ said father. ‘ And I watched him die while I danced to keep myself from dying, and when I saw that he was dead, I strapped him to a plank and let him down over the side of the vessel into the water, then I lay down on the same place he had been lying,’ and didn’t know anything more until I opened my eyes to find myself on board a vessel bound for New Orleans. They had come along * A fact. Jfour Girls at Gottage Gite. 239 and found me just in time to save me, and that was all.’ *‘ Father stopped again and leaned backin his chair. He closed his eyes, but I saw the big tears slowly roll down his face. We were all too horri- fied to say a word for some little time, and then mother asked : ‘ Have you been to mother’s, War- ren? Does she know?’ ‘Yes; I stopped there on my way home.’ ‘ And how did she take it?’ Father shook his head. ‘ Poor mother! I might as well have taken a knife and drove it clean through her heart. She worshipped that boy!’ After that we'didn’t talk very much, only mother said she would go over to see grandma early the next morning. It would do no good to go that night; it was snowing hard, father was almost sick himself and grandma’s house was a mile and a half away. Betsey Ann rolled up her knitting work and put it into the big bag she always wore at her side. Mother got down the lantern and lighted it for her. ‘Wal, Warren,’ said Betsey Ann, tying her hood snugly under her sharp chin, ‘you hev my sympathy, and so does Sally Ann. (This was grandmother). She thought an orful sight of that boy—I shouldn’t wonder if it killed her; she’s gettin’ along in years.’ Then she turned to mother. ‘ The land sakes, Emeline, ef I wasn’t agoin’ off with nothin’ but my cloth shoes on. Where be my rubber boots ? Oh, here they be in * Fact. The occurrence related here is true. It actually happened. 24o Jfour Girls at Gottage (IitQ. the corner. The Ludl I’m so upset I’d forget my head ef it wasn’t fastened on.’ Johial and I watched Betsey Ann’s light as it twinkled down the path, through the gate and up the long white road. It looked like a little glow-worm, shining through the snow. None of the women ever thought it necessary to be escorted home from a neighbor’s, after dark, no matter how late it was. Such a thing as a tramp was never heard of on the Cape, so the most timid of us never had any cause for fear, although if there ever was a place that seemed the very home of hobgoblins and ghosts, the pine woods that stretched themselves for a mile or more between our house and the village, was the place. I don’t think I need tell you of the sad time after father came home. Grandma’s grief was pitiable to see, but I was too young to realize very deeply. I will skip over the next four years of my life to the time I was fifteen. They were happy years, free from care and trouble: Jo grew stronger, but he never was as well again after his sickness. I’ll never forget the whipping I gave David Bassett — a big, cowardly boy, who lived in the village. I was about twelve years old. Jo and I were out in the yard one day. Jo was sawing wood and I was packing it into a basket and carrying it into the wood-shed, for I was a strong child. David came along and stopped to talk with us. He didn’t like Jo, for he thought four Girls at Gottage Gite. 241 that Jo was proud and felt above him. Jo wasn’t proud. His misfortune made him timid and re- served—that was all. David commenced to say little hateful things to Jo, but Jo never answered him back, only kept right on with his work. David edged along toward the road, and when at a safe distance, be called out: ‘Limp-leg, limp-leg!’ and took to his heels. My heart gave a great leap. I just caught a glimpse of the painful flush that dyed Jo’s face, and then I took to my heels and fairly flew down the road after David. He didn’t hear me coming until I was close up to him, and then, coward that he was, he ducked his head and put himself right in my path. I couldn’t stop then, and so of course I went heels over head, and rolled over in the dust. I heard David’s laugh and his ‘ Neow, gosh take ye,’ and then in my anger and desperation. I caught hold of his bare leg, as he started to run, and held on for dear life. He wrig- gled and twisted; he slapped me in the face; he even kicked me with his free foot, but I twined my arms around his leg, and in another moment he was down in the road. Then I scrambled to my feet and slapped, pinched and pounded him to my heart’s content, until he cried like a great baby. Ilooked up and saw Jo hurrying towards us, as fast as his lame leg would let him. I let him get near enough to get a good look at his fallen tor- mentor, then, with a parting pull at David’s white 242 your (Birls at (tottage ¢tty. hair, and a mocking ‘ Neow, gosh take ye,’ I strutted off to meet 10- a dusty, rumpled, but proud little conqueror. I never would have thought to fight for myself, but he had cruelly insulted J0, and he had to suffer the consequences. jo’s face was quite white when he met me. ‘ Oh, Charley, did he hurt you? ’ he asked, putting his little arm about me, and despite a black eye and a rapid- ly swelling lip, I replied, carelessly: ‘ Hurt me? Well, I guess not. It will take somebody a little bigger than that white-headed lunk to hurt me.’ My vocabulary of loving ( ? ) epithets must have been very limited, 'for that was the only one I could think of that was sufiiciently bad and strong to express my feelings. I remember how the girls applauded and scolded me all in one breath after I reached home. Mother was out, but Hannah put a piece of raw beef on the black eye and Deborah rubbed some mutton tallow on the swollen lip, and Emeline let me hold her pretty camphor bottle, and insisted on my smelling of the contents of it every other minute. I didn’t feel a bit faint—try as hard as I did to do so—but I leaned languidly back in the big rocker, and closed my eyes and played the fine lady and the heroine to my heart’s content. Jo'sat at my elbow and once in a while I wouldopen my one eye slowly, and after taking in to thefull his loving, admiring look, would close it again and languidly lift the bottle to my nose. Oh, homage Jfour (Birls at Gottage mm. 243 is dear, even to a child! "" * * I went to school until I was fifteen years old. Never was a girl happier than I ! Blessed with a good, kind father and mother, loving sisters and brothers, a perfectly healthly constitution, and a gay, happy disposition, with every comfort that a girl could ask for '; what had I to worry about? Nothing at all. I went to dancing-school the winter I was fifteen. I even had beans come to see me on Sunday evenings— boys who went to dancing-school with me. I re- member one night I was obliged to stay at home from dancing-school, on account of a very severe cold, and loud were my lamentations, for a new step was to be taught that evening. Deborah' consoled me by saying she would go in my place and learn the step and teach it to me. I lay awake until after IO o’clock, in spite of the strong mixture of niter that mother had given me, and when Deborah came into my room with her candle, I muflled myself up in a big shawl and sat up in bed to take my lesson. Deborah hummed the tune to me once or twice, and I attempted to hum it after her, but after one or two feeble croaks, I gave it up and whistled it instead. It seems as though I can see that picture now. The large, unfinished cham ber, dimly lighted by Deborah’s candle, that she had placed on the big chest, the low trundle bed in the corner, under the rafters, in which slept Jo, the little sleeping Thankful by my side, and Deborah 246 Jfour Girls at Gottage Gite. had made.” But I love to think that when the boat went down, and my Jo’s fair, scarred face was hidden beneath the cruel waters, that God sent His life-boat to save them and take them safely across to the golden shore, and that When Jo stepped out of the life-boat and grasped the hand of Him who died to save, the face he lifted to that Other’s was white, and pure, and unscarred, as when he was my baby brother and nestled his cheek to mine. Only I know it is a hundred-fold more pure, for the light of everlasting peace is upon it.” . The hush of the room was broken by low sobs from the girls, and, could the boys’ faces have been seen, the tears in' their eyes would have been seen also. The sobs recalled Mrs. Hood to herself. She rose from her chair and tried to make her voice cheerful, as she said: “ Now I have made you feel badly and you will not care to come and listen to me again.” “Oh, we will, we will!” came the reply, in choked, but earnest, voices. “ Please do not trouble to'light the lamp for us, Mrs. Hood,” said Fred, in a queer voice. “We can find our way out.” Dear Fred! He need not have been ashamed of the tears, for the girls thought twice as much of him for having them. *6 Fact. Jfour (Birls at Gottage Gtty. 247 “ May we come again to-morrow ?” askedjessie, as she clung to the hand that Mrs. Hood gave to her. “Yes, indeed. I shall be so glad to have you. But do not let my story grieve you. There is nothing to grieve about, for my life is a very happy one.” The girls had no reply to make to this. How could her life be happy ? was the question each asked herself, but Erfort’s grasp of Mrs. Hood's hand conveyed to her an answer that she under- stood as plainly as though he had spoken. S/ze knew that /ze knew. 0-“ w. CHAPTER XVIII. There was not much said on the way home. Each seemed to feel that at such a time, “ silence spoke louder than words.” Probably not one of them, unless, indeed, it were Erfort, had ever felt and thought so deeply on the subject of religion, and now their thoughts were but half formed. Their sympathy for Charlotte Hood was deep and heartfelt, and now they were wondering if it were really her religion that was bearing her up so won- derfully. “ How can it ? ” was all the question they could think to ask themselves. At the cottage the boys took leave of the girls, after asking permission to come back and spend the evening with them ; a permission they readily granted. At the supper table Jessie seemed unusu- ally silent; she didn’t even protest against the usual bowl of crackers and milk, although Vera, fearing that she would, said: “ Never mind, Jasmine; to-morrow we are going to have another good square meal at the restaurant, and to-morrow night we’ll vary the monotony of the regular supper fare with huckleberries.” Jfour (Bttls at Gottage (Mty. 249 “ Crackers and milk are good enough for me,” was the unexpected reply, given with a meekness that surprised them all. Vera looked at her, and the thought flashed through her mind : “ Little Robin is teaching her patience,” and she was right. A strange _teacher for bright, sparkling, way- ward Jasmine! Truly “ God moves in a mysteri- ous way His wonders to perform.” After supper the girls felt a little livelier. Not that they were forgetting what they had listened to that afternoon, or that its influence was leaving them, but the youthful spirit in them was strong and would assert itself, and it was well and right that it should do so. “ I suppose if those boys are coming,” said Jes- sie, leaning on the back of the chair from which she had just risen, and watching the others clear the table, “that there will be no band concert for this party to-night.” “ Now, Jess,” said Vera, pointing a spoon impres- sively at her, “You know you enjoy their com- pany.” “ Oh, well,” replied Jessie, carelessly, “they are a little better than the common run. Nothing very foolish about them.” Then she seated herself in the big rocker, saying: “Hurry up with those dishes, so we can go out on the piazza—it’s too lovely to stay inside.” 250 jfour (Birls at Gottage Gtty. “ ‘ Many hands make light work.’ Suppose you help ? ” said Net. “ Too many cooks spoil the broth,” retorted Jes- sie, with a reckless'disregard of adaptiveness. “You had better go out on the piaz’za now,” advised Net, gravely. “It must be too warm in here for you.” . ' “ All right,” replied Jessie, only too glad. “ Come on, Al; you are looking a trifle flushed.’ When Vera and Garnet joined them a few moments later, they found Erfort and Fred already there. They were surprised to see them so soon, and Jessie, leaning lazily back in her chair and rocking in her usual rather violent manner, looked over her shoulder at the girls and said easily: “ I’ve just been asking them when they ate their supper — they must have swallowed it whole.” Garnet, shocked, slyly tweeked Jessie’s hair'as she leaned on the back of her chair. “ Ow,” squealed Jessie, putting her hand up to her head. “ Gracious! Net Dare, let my hair alone; ydu’ve given me the head-ache l ” Fred couldn’t help it — he laughed outright, and over Erfort’s face flitted that shadow of a smile, oiily it was dark and no one saw it. Net sank down in her chair, angry at first, and then she joined in the laugh, her only revenge being: “You are worse than any child, Jessie,” for which reproof Jess cared not at all. Jfour (Birls at Gottage Gits). 251 Strange as it may seem to some, the subject of Charlotte Hood and her story was not alluded to, yet every one was thinking of it. So his. The thoughts that lie nearest to our heart are those it is the hardest to speak of. To have heard their light talk and laughter, one would have said that they had not one serious thought. _ “ By the way,” said Fred, rather loudly, “ what has become of Uriah Heep? Haven’t seen the the gentleman this evening. \Vhere does he keep himself?” “ ’Sh l ” ,A warning from Net, delivered with such energy, that the‘ gentleman, walking leisurely up the path, could not fail to hear it, even if he had not heard Fred's inquiry; which, by the way, he had. “ Good-evening, young ladies.” Fred, in his consternation, tried to draw into him- self, and become as air, but he loomed up against his post “ as large as life and twice as natural,” and the gentleman had his eyes fixed upon him curiously. Vera rose to do the honors. “ Our friends, Mr.'Richards, Mr. Travers,” and at the wordfrz'cnds Fred straightened himself and bade defiance to a hundred “ Uriah Heeps.” The gentleman seated himself. Vera had not ’ given his name, for she was not sure of it, and the gentleman after taking the chair she offered him, ' said: 252 jfour (Birls at Gottage Gtty. “My name is Wild—Prof. Wild, of Boston. It doesn’t seem to me necessary to stand on cere- mony at such a place as this, particularly when we are fellow lodgers.” “ Unfortunately we can not lay claim to that pleasure,” said Erfort, “though we come as near to it as we possibly can.” “'Told the truth for once in your life,” said the incorrigible Jessie, sotto voce. In the course of conversation that followed, our young people learned that their new acquaintance was a professor of phrenology, and he became a wonderful man in their eyes at once, especially in Garnet’s. ' ’ “ But do the bumps on anyone’s head tell what kind ofa person one is, or what profession, or—or what work one is best fitted to do?” asked Jessie, rather incoherently. . ' Prof. Wild held up both hands with a supplicat- ing gesture. “ Bumps! Miss Jessie! Oh, please do not call them that! ” “ What s/mll I call them ?” asked Jessie, not a bit abashed. “Organs.” “ Well, organs then. ‘ But a rose by any other name would smell as sweet.”’ Jessie seemed possessed to drag in quotations of questionable appropriateness, into her conversa- tion that evening. Jfour (Birls at Glottage (Mty. 253 “ The study of phrenology is a most interesting one to me,” said the professor. “ I have devoted myself almost exclusively to it for the past twenty years.” “ He must be quite ancient,” thought the girls. “ What is the distinction between phrenology and physiognomy ?” asked Garnet, who knew, but wanted. the professor’s definition. “ Phrenology is the science of the functions of the parts of the brain. The theory of Gall is, that the mental faculties are shown on the surface of the head—in the different organs. Physiognomy is the science of discerning the character of the mind from the features of the face. Not many of the people of to-day have much faith in this latter theory, but it attracted considerable attention among the ancients, tho’ it was, with them, rather a fanci- ful art than a natural science. Pythagoras and his disciples believed and practiced it, and Plato mentions it with. approbation in ‘Timmo.’ Aristotle is said tozbe the author of a treatise on it. When the physiognomist, Zopyrus declared Socrates to be stupid, brutal, sensual and a drunkard, the philoso- pher defended himself saying: ‘ By nature I am addicted to all these vices, and they were restrained and vanquished only by the continual practice of virtue.”’ “ Brave Socrates ! ” murmured Erfort, who was an ardent admirer of the ancient philosopher. 254 four (Birls at ¢ottage Ging. Prof. Wild smiled in a rather superior manner, and continued. . “ You know the remark of Julius Caesar on the physiognomy of Cassius and Antony is : ” “ ‘ Would he were fat/er: but I fear him not; Yet if my name were liable to fear, I do not know the man I should avoid So soon as that spare Cassius. He reads much He is a great observor, and he looks Quite thro’ the deeds of men. He loves no plays, as thou dost, Antony; He hears no music: Seldom he smiles, and smiles in such a way As ifhe mocked himself and scorned his spirit That could be moved to smile at anything; Such men are never at heart’s-ease . While they behold a greater than themselves And therefore are very dangerous.’ ” “ Poor Julius Cmsarl ” said Erfort. “ To be murdered by his friend I ” ’ “ Yes it was sad,” replied the professor, who evi- dently did not have the interest in “things ancient” as did Erfort. “ A wonderful man was Caius Julius Cmsar.” “As Longfellow has it,” said Erfort: “ ‘ Truly a wonderful man was Cains Julius Caesar. Better be first in a little Iberian village Then be second in Rome, and I think he was right when he said it. jfour (Bids at Gottage Gits). 255 Twice was he married before he was twenty and many times after; Battles five hundred he fought, and a thousand cities he conquered He, too, fought in Flanders, as he himself has re- corded ; Finally he was stabbed by his friend, the orator Brutus ! ’ ” “What a pretty way Longfellow has of telling things,” said Vera. “ I think that ‘ The Courtship of Miles Standish ’ is one of the most beautiful poems that was ever written.” “ It contains good advice for us all,” said Erfort. “ And it is given in very few words.” “ If you wish a thing to be well done, you must do it yourself, you must not leave it to others,” quoted Garnet. “ Very good advice, but Miles Standish did not not practice what he preached in one instance. If he had— ” “It would have made no difference,” interrupted Vera, with her wisest air. “Priscilla never would have married him. She preferred John Alden. And no wonder that she did.” “ Why ? ” asked Erfort, with a smile. Vera opened her gray eyes. “ What a question, Mr. Richards! Is it strange that a young girl like Priscilla would prefer a handsome young man like John Alden to a rough old fellow like Miles Stan- dish? Besides, he ought to have asked her himself, 258 jfour (Birls at Gottage (Dim. by appearances. I know better. A poor body isn‘t to blame for having homely features. There isn’t a soul living but what would have a classic nose and mouth if they could, but one’s disposition is not necessarily ugly because one’s nose happens to be.” When you touched on noses, you touched on Jessie’s sorest point. Not that her nose was ugly— far from it; only it was little — not much of it, but what there was, 'was very pretty. Erfort clapped his hands softly at Jessie’s gener- ous burst, but the professor looked at her much as he would have looked at a little kitten that had spit at him. “ You believe what you have said, no doubt,” he replied. “ But you will see differently when you get older.” Now, wasn’t that provoking? Garnet saw the dangerous light leap into the beautiful black eyes, and she rose hastily, overturning her chair as she did so. The professor picked it up. “ Thank you,” said Garnet. “ Don’t you think it is a little chilly out here? Perhaps we had better go in.” They all rose. The gentlemen took the ladies’ chairs, and Garnet led the way into the parlor. Jessie put her arm around her neck and whispered fiercely in her ear: “ Don’t you give that mean old thing a drop of cocoa ' ” four (Birls at Gottage (Mty. 259 “Jessie l ” “ You hear me. If, you do, 1 shan’t pay a cent towards the next can.” ' ' Then Jessie slipped back'with Vera, and they exchanged sympathetic pressures of hands. The professor had gone down a good many degrees in t/zcz'r estimation. Poor man! He was totally unconscious of it, or appeared to be, as he sat in a low rocking chair and sipped the cup of cocoa that Garnet had given him — despite Jessie’s threat -— with an air of thorough enjoyment. It did seem to Vera and Jessie as though he would have shown to much better advantage if he had taken a higher chair, for his legs being very long, and the chair very low, there was not room for them between the chair and the floor, so he wrapped them around the rounds to get them out of the way. Vera could hardly help laughing as she looked at them, but she fervently hoped that Fred would not see them. Alas l She had scarcely composed her face at Jessie’s whispered: “ Isn’t he a regular ‘ daddy-long-Iegs?’” when she became aware of Fred’s painfully apparent efforts to attract her attention. He was sitting on a high chair on the opposite side of the room, and he commenced by fixing his eyes earnestly upon her face and giving vent to a a loud “Ahem l” Vera, of course, wouldn’t look, although it seemed almost impossible for her to 260 'your (Birls at Gottage Gite. keep her eyes away. Then he rattled his cup against his saucer, at which Garnet asked him kindly, “if he would like more cocoa.” This rather disconcerted him for a moment, for no young man would like even his cousin to think that he would take this childish way of asking for more drink. “I have plenty. Garnet, thank you,” he replied, keeping his eyes on Vera’s rapidly crim- soning face. Then he went to the rather extreme measure of stretching his own long legs half way across the room and literally wagging his feet, (if such an expression would be allowed) at Vera. Poor Vera! Her eyes fastened themselves on the wagging feet, as though fascinated, and fol- lowed them as they were slowly drawn up to their rightful place under the chair. Then, quick as a flash, they twined themselves round and round the rounds of the chair in such an alarming manner and in such an absolutely ludicrous imitation of the unconscious professor’s, that Vera, finding her- self on the verge of an hysterical burst of laughter. rashly took a drink of her cocoa, when—we all know what followed, some of us from experience. A gurgle, a gasp, a violent effort to send the cocoa on its right road down, and only succeeding in driv- ing it out—over the floor, her dress, and everything around her, and a precipitate retreat into the back parlor, where she is followed by Garnet, Allie and Jessie, who take turns in slapping her on the .lfour (Birls at Gottage (tite. 261 back and anxiously asking what is the matter. The gentlemen do not dare to follow, except Fred, who is really frightened, so much so that he throws all prudence to the winds and ventures to the open door. Vera catches sight of him and gasps out: “ Send that boy out.” ' Poor Fred! The punishment is severe. To be called a boy, and before that hateful professor! Oh, Vera, cruel, hard-hearted Vera! Fred goes back to his chair thoroughly subdued. The girls repair to the kitchen for a few moments of explanation. They all sympathize with Vera, and tell her not to care, but to go back into the parlor and act as though nothing had happened. Garnet makes this possible by saying: “You know you can do it, Vera. Don’t give that foolish boy the satisfaction of thinking he can upset you altogether.” That was appealing to Vera’s pride, and she im- mediately arose, put her handkerchief in to her pocket, and herself led the way back into the parlor. Jessie went dancing after, hugging herself with botharms to think that it was not she who had dis- graced herself. “ Net would have taken my head off,” she thought. Not another word or glance would Vera bestow on poor Fred the rest of the evening, although the pleading looks he gave her must have haunted her dreams that night. 262 ' jfour Girls at Gottage Gity. Prof. Wild was the first to leave the room, and as he rose from his chair, he said: “ If you would like to have me— that is, if you think you would enjoy'it, I will examine your heads some evening. Explain the different organs to you. You may derive some pleasure, if not ben- efit from it.” They thanked him and agreed to have it done the next evening. Garnet was so pleased with the idea that her eyes shone like stars. Vera looked skeptical, and the professor, quick to see it, turned to her. “ Would you like for me to tell you what you ought to be, if you are not ?” “ If you please.” “A school teacher.” Vera started. How did he know? No one in the house knew of it except their own party — not even “ Grandpa ” and “ Mother.” “ You love music, too, and are a very good singer. You do not play much in public, but you love to play and sing for your own amusement. You are—but I’ll reserve the rest for to-morrow evening . Shall I ?" “As you wish.” Vera was certainly surprised, but she wasn’t going to let him see it. “ What am I ?” asked Jessie. jfour (Birls at t‘Jottage Gtty. 263 “You are a school-girl now,” was the answer, but you will take up the study of elocution, and do wonderfully well with it, too.” ‘fS/zall 1 ?” The little face glowed and the big eyes shone. That was Jessie’s one ambition —to be an elocu- tionist. She was on the point of pouring out a vol- ley of questions, but he turned to Garnet. He looked into the strong little face for a long while. So calm, so untroubled, so firm in its expression of self-control, outwardly. Beneath — did the profes- sor see what there was? He passed over to Allie ' with the brief words : “ To-morrow evening.” “ You are a little home-body. You are inter- ested in housework; you love it and you do well with it. Your father could not get along without you; you help him in his accounts; you help your brothers and sisters with their studies. You are very necessary in your father’s home, and—you will some day be a wife —- a minister’s wife.” At this rather startling information, Allie blushed a rosy red, and the others laughed. “I will see the gentlemen another time. And now, good-night,” and with a low how this rather strange professor went hurriedly out of the room, and in a moment or two they heard— alas, that it is necessary in this matter-of-fact world to fie mat- ter-of-fact — his boots come down pretty heavily on the floor overhead. Fred wafted a kiss Wild-ward. “ Pleasant dreams to you, Oscar,” he said. 264 your (Birls at (tottage Me As the girls stood on the piazza saying “ good- night” to the boys, Fred stepped up to Vera, and said : “ Won’t you please forgive me, Miss Earle ?” “ It was very wrong ofyou,” said Vera. “ I know it,” said Fred, eagerly. “ But I’m very sorry.” ' Vera could not help smiling at the boyish face and tone. “ Won’t you do it again ?” “ Never l ” “ Then I forgive you t/z's time.” So they parted friends. “ Say girls,” said Jessie, unlacing her shoes up stairs five minutes later. “ I’d like first-rate to hear what the old fellow has to say about my elocution, but I’ll be smocked—‘excuse me, Net—if I want his cold hands on my head.” “ Ugh ! ” shivered Vera. “It makes me crawl to think of them. But I w0uld like to hear What he has to say about me.” “ He seems like a kind-hearted man,” said Allie, always seeing the best in anyone. “ Net’s all carried away with him,” said Jessie. “ I see it in her eyes.” “ You’ll get something in your own eyes if you don’t shut them and go to sleep,” said Vera, raising her pillow. All Garnet said was: “Be careful, girls, he will hear you. His room is right opposite, you know.” Jfout (51115 at Gottage Qty. 265 “ Oh, to-morrow afternoon,” said Allie, with a happy sigh. “ We’ll hear more of Charlotte Hood’s story.” ' “A happy thought to go to sleep upon,” said Garnet. CHAPTER X IX. ' The next morning the girls were “up betimes,’ (as the story-tellers have it,) each one looking eagerly forward to “ Robin’s Hour,” although not speaking ofit. “Who’s going to get breakfast this morning?” asked Jessie. “Who’s going to get breakfast this morning?” repeated Garnet. “ That’s what I said,” said Jessie, calmly, diving under the bed after one of her shoes. “ The ones who get it every morning,” and Gar-’ net gave her curls a parting brush, and commenced to take the clothes off the bed. ' Jessie made up a face at Allie from behind the shoe she had captured. “ That’s you and I, Al,’ she said, in a stage whisper. “ Yes, I should say as much,” said Garnet. “ You haven’t done a thing towards getting break- fast a single morning since we have been here.” Jessie opened her eyes wide and made an “ O ” of her lips. “ Why, Net Dare, what a big lie! I help every morning, so there now ! ” “Why Jessie!” Garnet’s tones were full of reproach. jfour Ging at Gottage Gite. 267 “ I do. You ask Vera.” “ I can swear to that,” said Vera, who had her head down and was braiding her golden hair into one thick, heavy braid, preparatory to coiling it on the top of her head. “ Jess puts her chair up to table every morning, and sets the omelet in a par- ticular spot, viz: You all know where.” “ Close up to her plate,” said Garnet, while Jes- I sie cried : , “ You mean thing, Vera Earle. I beat the eggs ' for you two or three mornings, and it isn’t any fun to do that, I can tell you. But that’s all the thanks Iget. You can beat them yourself this morning and see how you like it,” and Jessie gave her shoe- string such a jerk that it broke, and she came very near falling over on her back, a mishap that didn’t, improve her temper any. “ Jasmine’s cross this morning,” said Vera, trying not to laugh at the comical figure Jessie cut in her gymnastic performance, while Allie hastened to her trunk to get a shoe-string. “ Never mind, Jess,” said Allie. “ Remember where you are going at 4 o’clock this afternoon.” How quickly the clouds were banished from the little face, and brightest sunshine filled their place! The angry words were forced back, and as Allie handed over the shoe-string, Jessie smiled one of her rare, sweet smiles, as she looked up into Allie’s gentle face and said: “ Thank you, Allie.” 268 four (Birls at Gottage Gity. Perhaps Allie understood that the thanks were for something more than the shoe-string. I think she did, for she looked so pleased. “I have heard soft, faltering footsteps on the other side of the door several times this morning,” said Garnet, “and l have my suspicions as to whose they are.” “ The professor’s ?” asked Jessie. “ Mercy, no! Can you imaging/11's footsteps being soft and faltering?” “ I can imagine them being soft in correspond- ence with his head,” said Jessie, who had not for- gotten last night’s injury. ' “ But it’s my belief he would'falter at nothing.” “ Not even murder, hey?” said Vera. he could have our heads to put into alcohol for future use.” “All he’d want would _be the pianos,” said Jessie. “ The what?” “ The pianos.” “ What are those?” “ The bumps.” “ You mean organs, Jessie,” said Garnet, absent- mindedly, at which they all laughed. “An’ did the innocent think I didn’t know?” cried Jessie. “ Begorra but I knowed they were some kind of an insthrumint, an’ phwy not pianners as well as orgins, now?” “ Then’ 27O Jfour Girls at Gottage Gitt. “ Are we all ready ?” asked Allie. “If we are, let’s go down so as not to keep them waiting.” They found “Grandpa” and “Grandma” sitting in their respective chairs. “ Grandma ” in the big rocker, “Grandpa” close beside her in the old arm-chair, his Bible on his knee, his spectacles on his nose. The girls seated themselves and the usual morning service proceeded. I do not think the girls, before this morning, realized how peacefully, quietly happy they felt during that half hour, when they sat with those two aged pilgrims, whose journey through life was almost ended, and listened to the precious words from the “ Holy Book ” and sung the sweet songs of the Gospel. I am sure the memory of those half-hours will never leave them while they live. “ I do believe it is going to rain,” said Jessie, as she stood in the door-way after breakfast. “ Won’t it be too bad if it rains this afternoon.” “ It needn’t make any difference to our going to Mrs. Hood’s,” said Vera. “I’ve been to dancing- school nights when it has rained pitch forks, and I guess I can go as far as Mrs. Hood’s and not hurt myself. Dear me! I’ll never forget one night when I went to dancing-school—oh, how it did rain! Mother didn’t want me to go, butI didn’t want to miss a lesson, and then we always did have such fun. Well, you know Madge Weld. Net ? she was with me. We got off the train and Jfour (Birls at (tottage Gite. 271 started down Main street. Oh, that street was perfectly dreadful —just like a river, and here and there were small places that were icy. Ever so much worse than as though the whole street had been slippery. Well, we were hurrying along as fast as we could go, when all at once an old lady — not so very old either; not more than fifty-five, ~ but very fleshy—slipped upon a piece of ice about the size of a sheet of writing-paper', and down she went, right on the back of her head, with her feet up in the air. You know how quickly the gentlemen offer their assistance, at such times— well, one gentleman who had been looking in one of the shop windows, ran eagerly forward, anxious to do the polite, when, if you will believe me, he slipped up on that same piece ofice, and down he went, giving the old lady the awfullest kick in the back! It must have hurt her twice as much as the fall did. I just leaned against the railing of the window and laughed until I cried, for his hat fell off, showing a miniature skating-rink, and he rolled his eyes around at me with such a look of agony, entreaty, rage, humiliation and laughter, all com- bined, that I thought I should die. Well, that isn't all. When I managed to start on again, if ] didn’t slip up on that same mean little bit, and the gymnastic exercise I performed in trying to save myself was twice as comical as though I had gone down. My feet sprawled all over the sidewalk, I “‘ 272 four (Birls at Gottage (tite. threw both arms up wildly—umbrella and all— in the air, hitting a man on the head and knocking his hat off, thus causing him to commit sin by men- tioning a place where ice is unknown. How in the world I kept from going down I don’t know, for my hair came in such close contact with the sidewalk that it was slightly damp with the moist- ure thereon. Madge declared she was going to tell Prof. Starkland that I had originated a new step, but I told her to beware as she valued my friendship.” “ Isn’t it fun to dance ?” said Jessie, after they“ had finished laughing at Vera’s account. “ Yes, it is,” answered Vera, with such a heavy sigh that the girls looked at her, whereat Vera laughed nervously and blushed. “ To tell the truth, girls,” she said, “ I for one, would hate to give up dancing.” “ Who said anything about being obliged to P” asked Jessie, rather sharply. Vera paused a moment, and then said quickly, ascthough half ashamed: “ 1 was thinking ofwhat ‘ Grandpa’ and ‘ Grand- ma ’ said to us, the other morning, about our not caring for things that we care for now, when we get to be as old as they are —” Jessie interrupted Vera with a ringing laugh, “ Well, I should say as much. Whoever would imagine ‘ Grandpa ’ and ‘ Grandma ’ wanting to Jfour (Btrls at Glottage Gtty. 273 waltz! Ha, ha, ha! and ‘ Polka!’ and ‘ Mili- tary Schottische ! ’ and the ‘ York!’ Ha, ha, ha! and the ‘ Highland Fling,’ while you are about it. Oh—h—h !” and Jessie leaned forward in her chair, with her hands on her sides and laughed until the tears rolled down her cheeks, and the others couldn’t help laughing in sympathy. “ Oh, Vera Earle, you’ll kill me,” gasped Jessie, rolling her head from side to side and lifting eyes that were heavy with tears. “ Can’t you imagine them hopping around here ? Swing you partners! .First couple in the centre and eight hands around ! All waltz ! Oh —h— h ! ” Jessie fairly doubled up in her chair and came near being hysterical, so much so that Garnet said, rather sharply for her: “Jessie, keep still. How can you make fun of poor ‘ Grandpa ’ and ‘ Grandma ! ’ and Vera said : “ You didn’t let me finish, Jessie. I was going to say, rather, that we would not care for such things when we cared more for— for — ” “ Our Heavenly Father,” said Allie, softly, and Vera breathed a sigh of relief at Allie’s coming to the rescue. Vera could talk upon any other subject. but at the very thought of speaking the Saviour’s name aloud her face burnt and her heart beat fast. Jessie came out of her merry fit in an instant. “ Oh, nonsense,” she said, sharply. “ Don’t be so foolish. Just as though any one couldn't be just 27+ Jrour (Bins at Gottage on. as good when they danced as when they didn’t. It doesn’t hurt anyone to shake their foot a bit—it does them good. It does me, anyway,” and Jessie sprang out of her chair and waltzed lightly around the room. Vera leaned against the table and watched her. How lightly and gracefully the slender, girlish form glided over the floor. Jessie looked over her shoulder at Vera, as she danced. Her cheeks were crimson and her beautiful eyes were flashing. “ I would dance to-night if I knew I was going to die to-morrow. It’s no sin, and I would go to Heaven just as quick. Don’t look so sober, Vera. I don’t mean to be wicked, but I’ll dance, dance, dance, though the Heavens fall,” and with an extra whirl and trip Jessie danced out of the room. “ That child will never be anything nut a child,” said Garnet. “ And a spoilt one at that.” “Jess says a great many light things to hide her real feelings,” said Vera. “ She thinks more than ‘ we gives her credit for doing.” “ That is true,” said Allie, emphatically. Jessie is a noble girl.” Garnet looked almost scandalized. “ Why, Allie Hunt, what an idea !” “ Oh, but she is,” said Allie, with soft persist- ence. “ You’ll find it out, some day.” “ Well, I really hope I shall,” replied Garnet, “ but I doubt it.” jfour Girls at Gottage Gity. 275 That afternoon, at 3 : 45 o’clock, Fred and Erfort presented themselves at the cottage, punctual to the minute. Strange to say, it was the first time, they had been there that day, and Jessie greeted them with : “Well, what’s going to happen? Have you been sick, or what, that you are just showing yourselves ?” “We are sorry if we have disappointed you,” said Fred, wickedly. “If we had known you were anxious to see us, we would most surely have exerted ourselves and come before.” Jessie flashed a contemptuous look at him. “ You needn’t bother about exerting yourself on my account, thank you. I can manage to exist without your delightful company. Of course you had to stay in your room and rest to-day, after your effort of last evening.” And with this parting shot Jessie slipped her hand through Allie’s arm and hurried on ahead. “ You will learn better than to apply a match to t/zat piece oftinder,” said Vera, laughing, as Fred, rather disconcerted, walked by her side. “ True. She is rather quick at taking fire, isn’t she ?” Erfort, over whose face had flitted the strange smile, walked with Garnet, and she stole a look at him to see if he was utterly shocked. He didn’t seem to be, certainly. jfour (Birls at Gottage Gtty. 277 Oh, Garnet was a wise little body if ever there was one. Little trouble would there be in this ' world if s/zc had the brewing of it. Mrs. Hood met them at the door. They could see she was feeling unusually happy, and she soon explained it. “ Robin hasn’t had any pain to-day,” she said, with almost childish eagerness. “ It is the first time for months. Oh, God is very good ! ” Surely the patient faith of this woman was some- thing wonderful and her entire goodness was a thing that could never be doubted. Jessie had already seated herself on the bed be- side Robin. Her arm was about him and her head touched his lightly as it rested on her shoulder. He smiled at each one as they came in and held out his little thin hand, but after they were seated he nestled close against Jessie’s side, his hand holding tight hold of her’s, and hardly moved while his mother proceeded with her story. “an """I 535 {1' ~ ~4 “1:14- I a 11/“ “—'‘£*‘ CHAPTER X X . “ After the news of the wreck, that had been seen 011' Cape Hatteras, reached us, we all knew that we would never see our boys again in this world, yet we kept hoping that some other news would come—that they had been picked up by some other vessel or something. Deborah and I went home to mother. The stage used to pass the corner near our house, and night after night I have seen mother go to the door, and stand with her hand shading her eyes, watching for it to come around the corner, but it never turned the corner to come to the house, but always passed on. Oh,- those were terrible days! I have often wondered how we ever lived through them. I have known since where mother went to find strength to endure, and found it; but then my heart was hard and bit- ter. I think suspense is the hardest thing of all to bear, or if not the hardest, the most trying. It was hard to lose husband and brother together—yes, two brothers, for Hersey was very near to me. Well, time passed on. Mother went out nursing and I kept house for her, for soon Hannah married and went to a home of her own, and Deborah went to New Bedford to Emeline’s. Seven months after Jfour 6M5 at Gottage (Itte, 281 when she is obliged to deny her children even the ordinary comforts of life. All this time my heart had been growing more and more bitter towards God. What crime had I ever committed that my life should be one long pain—one long struggle for mere existence ? Existence not only for my- self but for those who were infinitely dearer tome than life itself. I heard a sermon one Sunday. It was considered to be one of the ablest sermons ever preached in New Bedford, but to me it was nothing more than a mockery, and Iwent home with my heart full to overflowing with hate and anger. Only one thing that he had said could I remember, and that kept repeating itself over and over again: ‘ God doeth all things well, and ye who dispute His righteousness and goodness are of a sinful nature and do err wickedly; for which eternal punishment shall be inflicted upon you at some future day.’ How did he dare to say such words as those to one who had known nothing but sorrow for many a long day? It was well enough for /zim to say that ‘ God doeth all things well,’ for all things were well with him. He had a beautiful home, a loving wife, beautiful children—every- thing to make a 'man thankful; why s/zouldn’t he declare God to be good. Let /zis home and money be 'taken from' him, let /zim lose his wife as I had lost my husband; let /zim know what it was to hear his children asking him for food to eat, that he four (Bins at Glottage Gttq. 28:. I’ll be all right in the morning. Marjie and Lillis are both asleep, but Hope wanted rocking.’ I wouldn’t let her go until she had taken some hot drink and put her feet in mustard water, for I thought she must have taken a severe cold; then I sat down and rocked and sang to Hope until I was half asleep, but it was 10 o’clock before she stopped moaning and lay quiet in my arms. I sat and looked at her a few moments before putting her in her crib. She was four years old now. She looked like a little angel as she lay there. She was very pale, and her bright hair clung in little damp rings to her forehead; her long dark lashes rested on her cheek. But her little hands were clenched and she kept grinding her teeth as though she were in pain. I took her up stairs and laid her on the bed beside Lillis, who slept with me, deciding to keep her beside me that night, then I undressed and got into bed. It didn’t seem'as though I had been asleep but a very short time before Lillis wakened me, crying.’ ‘ What is the matter, darling?’ I asked, putting my hand over and resting it on her arm. It burnt me like fire. ‘ My head aches dreadfully, mamma.’ Iwas out of bed in an instant and lighted the lamp. ‘ Oh please don’t, mamma,’ cried Lillis. ‘ The light hurts my eyes.’ I placed a book before the lamp to shade the light, then went over to the back side of the bed and took Lillis in my arms. ‘ Tell Jfour Girls at Gottage Gity. .285 llannah ? I’ve been looking for it since morning, and now it is evening, and I have not found it.’ ' How I remained calm I do not know, but I did. ‘ Don’t you know me, Debbie? I am Charlotte. Don’t you know where you are? See, here is Marjorie too.’ She took her hand from my face and flung her arms up over her head again. ‘ The wreck! the wreck!’ she moaned, and that is all she would say. I turned to Marjie. She was nothing but a child, only eight years old, and very small and slender, but she was my only help. I put my arms around her. Her big dark eyes shone like stars in her little white face as she looked up at me. ‘ Marjie darling, mamma’s own little woman, Auntie is very sick and the doctor must come and see her right away. Little sister and baby are sick too, and mamma can’t leave them. Will you run to Auntie Em’s and ring her door bell real hard, and tell her this, and ask her to send for the doctor?’ I can see the frightened look now that came into her eyes. Her lips that were always so red, grew pale and I felt her form tremble in my arms. ‘ Oh, mamma l ’ The whisper was full of horror. My heart ’almost burst. I covered her little face with kisses. ‘ It is only a few steps, my darling. Mamma will stand at the door and watch you.’ ‘ It’s so dark, mamma.’ ‘I know, dar- ling; but you don’t want Auntie and little sister and baby to die, you know, and they may if the 286 jfour (Btrls at Gottage (WY. doctor doesn’t come.’ That was enough. ‘I’ll go, mamma.’ I helped her dress. She trembled like a leaf all the time, and when I opened the outside door for her to pass out, and she saw how dark it was, she drew back and clung to me- Then I said, scarce thinking: ‘God will take care of you, darling.’ She let go of my dress, and ran like a flash. I saw her once, as she passed under a gas-light, turn and look over her shoulder, as if to assure herself that I was watch- ing her, then she fluttered on again, and out of sight. I turned to run up stairs again, for a mo- ment, when right towards me came Deborah—21 wild light in her eyes. ‘ Cluick, quick!’ she cried. ‘ I’ve found the wreck and I hear the boys calling to me to come to them. I’ve seen Hersey, and Jo, and Isaac. They were clinging to the mast, and they called to me to get a boat and come.’ I took her arm and turned her around. ‘This is the way, Debbie. We will get the boat.’ I led her back up stairs, but she stopped at the door of the room and would not go in. I heard Lillis and Hope both moaning, and I knew Marjie would soon be back, and I must be at the door to meet her. ‘Deborah,’ I said, speaking as sternly asI could, ‘lie down on that bed and stay until I come to you. The boat is a long way off, and I must go for it, for I can go more quickly than you.’ She lay down on the bed immediately, only say- jfour (BtrIs at (tottage (Bity. 289 touch my wrist I smiled and drew it away. ‘I know what I am saying. You must tell me the worst. It is your duty. I can bear it.’ ‘ I cannot 'tell you if they will die, of course, but they are very sick, indeed. I will come again, this after- noon. Your sister, Mrs. Brayton, wished me to tell you that she didn’t know whether she could come over or not, to-day, as her little boy is sick with the same disease, though not dangerously so.’ I nodded my head. ‘ Shall I send some one to help you ?’ ‘No, thank you. I shall get along very well.’ At the' foot of the stairs he turned. ‘Be careful of Marjorie,’ he said ; then he went out and shut the door and I went back to my sick ones. I shall not linger over the days that followed— how I passed from one bed to the other and did all that I could do to keep them with me. Marjorie, —ah, my angel Majoriel I can not speak of her yet. At the end of the sixth day as I was leaving Deborah’s bedside, I was surprised to hear her say, quite calmly, ‘Charlotte.’ I went back to her. ‘Yes, Debbie.’ The red had all faded from her cheek and her eyes were large and languid. ‘Charlotte, I think I am dying.’ ‘Oh Debbie!’ It was all that I could say. ‘I am, Charlotte, for I have seen Hersey, and he says he is coming for me very soon. I would like to see mother before I go.’ I didn’t say a word. I only held fast to one of her hands with both of mine and put 290 Jfour Girls at Gottage Gite. my head beside hers on the pillow. She was my dearest and best sister and she was leaving me. I could not tell whether her mind wandered or not, for, although her face looked perfectly calm, she kept talking about our childhood days at home. ‘They were happy days, Charley,’ she murmured. ‘ Give my love to all the girls and tell mother I was not afraid to die—I am all ready to go.’ She lay perfectly still for a moment, with her eyes closed. I heard her murmur several times: ‘ The child Hope,’ and she smiled each time ; then suddenly she opened her eyes wide and looked up to the ceiling. She caught her breath quickly as if in pleased sur- ' prise, put up both arms and said, ‘I see them; father, Hersey, J0 and Isaac. Mother, do you hear?’ Then her arms dropped and all was still. Iclosed her eyes and leaned my hot head for a moment on her cold forehead. Ionly gave one sob. ‘Good-bye, Debbie.’ ‘Mamma.’ I raised my head. Marjie was standing by my side. ‘ Auntie has gone to Heaven, Margie,’ I said, and the child never cried, only looked on the still form with eyes full of wonder and awe. ‘ She will see papa, won’t she mamma?’ ‘ She has seen him, darling; she said so.’ The child never questioned. ‘ Run down to Auntie Em’s, darling,’ I said. ‘ And tell her.’ I went into my room. Hope was lying very quiet, but Lillis was turning restlessly on her pillow'and singing snatches of school songs. I sat down beside 292 Jfour (Birls at Gottage Gity. I knew they had telegraphed to mother and Han- nah and they would expect them the next night. What use is there in my telling it all over? All that night’s and the next day’s watching? When the light faded from the sky, it faded from my Lil- lis’ eyes as well, and my watching was over. * t * The minister came that night, and wished to talk with me. I knew quite well what he would say—I hadn’t forgotten his sermon. I went down stairs to see him. He said just what I thought he would say. My heart swelled almost to bursting butI never opened my lips. What could that man tell me of sorrow, with my three dear dead ones lying up stairs? He grew impatient after a while and asked me if my heart was so hard and my eyes so blinded with wicked tears that I could not feel God’s loving kindness and see His will through it all. I simply said: ‘ Come with me, ifyou please.’ Surprised, he followed me up the stairs. I took him into Deborah’s room first. I drew the cloth down from her face. ‘ You see what is lying here? The sister I loved best.’ He said not a word, and I put the cloth back in its place. I took him next into my room, taking Marjie whom I met in the hall, with us. The two little forms lay stretched side by side, the same white sheet covering them ' both. I drew it down and looked on my darlings’ faces with eyes that felt hard and dry. The golden curls and the brown curls touched as they rested on Jfour (Birls at ¢ottage (Mty. 293 the same pillow; the sweet faces looked soft and white and, cold; the little dimpled hands were crossed alike on the pretty white night-dresses. Could that man tell me what sorrow was? Iwould never hear my darlings’ voices again ; I would never feel their sweet kisses on my lips, their soft cheeks against mine, and their dimpled arms around my neck. Could he ask me if my heart felt tender toward the One who had sent this misery upon me? Ah, those were the wicked thoughts I had that night, and I almost laughed as he turned his head away from the sight of the lovely faces on the pil- low. What was it to him? He could go back home and take his fair and beautifully dressed chil- dren on his knee and listen to their talk and laugh- ter, and feel their kisses and their soft breath on his cheek. He turned to leave the room. ‘ One mo- ment, please,’ I said. I stooped down and wrapped my arms about Marjie. ' f This is all I have left to live for. If she is taken from me, I will take my life in' my own hands and do with it as I please.’ He gave me a look of reproach and horror, and murmuring, ‘ God have mercy upon you,’ left the room. mm CHAPTER X XI . Mother and Hannah came late that same night. I had never seen mother cry as she did when she looked at Deborah and my two babies. She went first into one room and then into the other, sobbing as though her heart would break. Two days later we took them down home with us and laid them away in the old family burial lot, and the day after, Marjie and I went back to New Bedford. Iwas eager to get to work again, for there were heavy bills to pay and I had no one but myself to depend on to pay them. I clung to Marjie as thoughl could not bear her out of my sight. I lay awake nights to listen to her breathing. I was wild with anxiety lest something should happen to her. I worked night and day and spent my money freely in buying for her delicacies that she had’ never known the taste of before, and I sat and watched her eagerly while she ate them; it did my heart good to see her. I bought some beautiful white lace to make her a dress and a wide sash of crim- son. I had her come to the shop every night after school and stay until 6 o’clock—the hour when I was free. Oh, I killed her with kindness, my one little white lamb. At the end of a week she was 296 jfour (Birls at (llottage (Mty. forgive me ! —I commanded Him to leave me my child. I promised, by the great love I bore her and by my hope for Eternity, that if He would do this, I would bring her up to love, fear, and serve Him all her life, and I would do the same myself. But if He took her from me I would never love Him and never serve Him. When I finished I kept my eyes on Marjie’s face to watch for the change that my faith told me would come. It came. The great black eyes opened and looked at me. I sprang to my feet and bent over her— full of joy and thankfulness. ‘ Oh, thank God! thank God! He is good.’ I cried. 'Then I said, ‘Marjie darling, it’s mamma; don’t you know mamma?’ She smiled and put up her little hand to stroke my cheek, but it fell again and all at once her eyes rolled up until I could see nothing but the whites. A dreadful look of pain passed across her face and she threw up both little hands in agony. But scarcely had I put my arms around her before it passed away and the most beautiful look I ever saw on anyone’s face rested on hers. ‘Little sis —’ That was all, then her head sank heavily back against my shoulder and I was left alone. I know God has forgiven me for what I then did, I stood up and cursed Him, and swore I would never try to live a good life. Let me pass over the fearful days that followed. When I once more went back to the shop my old acquaintances your (Btrls at Gottage Gtty. 297 scarcely knew me. I worked every minute to get money to pay to pay my bills, and, at the end of six months, I did not owe one cent. Then I com- menced to associate with my shop-mates. Iwas still young—only twenty-seven—and I did not look that. I wore my hair in heavy curls down my back. I put red paint on my cheeks, which, with my naturally white skin made my complexion quite dazzling. I dressed in gay colors, went to parties and dances, and when I went home in the early morning, would take morphine tablets to put me to sleep. I never allowed myself to think—it would have driven me crazy. The same min- ister came to see me, but I said things to him that~drove him from the house in horror, and he never entered it again. Emeline tried to talk with me, but I wouldn’t listen to her, and in a little while she let me alone. At the end of two years word came to us that mother was dead. I washed the paint off my cheeks, made myself a black dress, and went down home to the funeral. Thankful and Mercy were both married, and to sailors. Hannah took Warren to live with her— the old home was sold, and the money divided among the children; then I went back to New Bedford and plunged once more into the gay life. Three more years passed. Thankful went on a voyage with her husband, and they never returned from‘ it. I laughed when the news of the lost 300 ' four (Birls at ctottage Gite. been heard to make a moan, or murmur against God's justice. But she had kept by herself, sel- dom going out anywhere— even to church. I could not help pitying her, as she hurried along, pale and breathless, trying in vain to keep up with the minister. At length her strength seemed to be giving out, and I heard her say sonething to him. He scarcely turned his head to look at her, as he said, sternly: ‘ I have no time to talk with you, now. You had many opportunities, while on earth, to listen to me, but you never availed your- self of them, and now it is too late. I must hurry on to meet my judge.’ And in a few moments he was out of sight. The poor old woman sank down and covered her face with her hands. I put out my hand, as I passed her, and helped her to rise. She staggered for a moment, and I passed my arm about her. She thanked me, with tears in her eyes, and I stood there for a moment, holding her. just then a man who had been walking back of us passed us. I could not see his face, for he kept his head turned, but, as he passed, he put out his hand and lightly touched, first Hester, and then myself, on the head; then he passed on. I cannot begin to tell the effect his touch had upon me. In a second I felt as well and strong as though I had not taken one step and I felt Hester’s bowed form straighten up in my arms. ‘ I can walk very well, now, dear,’ she said, and so she did g—walked just 392 jfour (Birls at Gottage Mty. It was then that I noticed the same man who had passed us when Hester was so tired, walking slowly along, a little way from where we had stopped. I know he had been watching us, but he turned his head so quickly, when I looked up, that, as before, I could not see his face. The minister slept so long that the rest of the travelers had caught up with us, by the time we were ready to move on. He said his head and eyes felt perfectly strong and well, but that he was still a little weak. I was about to offer the assistance of my arm although he had refused to recognize me in the least, during our whole journey, as one being too wicked fora righteous man to speak to, but Hester spoke before me. Almost against his will, it seemed, he accepted her support, and thus leaning on her and deriving his strength from her, he passed on, to stand before the Judgment Bar. It seemed as though a twilight atmosphere settled upon and around us, as we walked on. It was such a stillness as we used to feel on earth on some beautiful spring evening— just between daylight and dark, when the birds had all gone to their nests, and not a sound was heard. It filled us all with a deep calm, yet it seemed as though we scarcely dared to breathe— such a deep solemnity was all about us. Strange to say, the minister seemed the quietest of any, and as we approached nearer and nearer towards what we all felt to be the Judgment Hall, he jfour (Bins at Glottage Gity. 303 leaned more and more heavily upon Hester’s arm. All at once such a blinding light burst upon us that it was too much for our eyes to bear, and we all, with one accord, fell prostrate on the ground and hid our faces. Then we heard a voice, stern, yet full of a strange sweetness, say: ‘Arise and come forward.’ We did as had been commanded us, and, as we lifted our heads, the scene that John describes in ‘Revelations,’ was before us. The figure that sat on the throne was more beauti- ful than I can tell. It was clothed in a robe of rich crimson and gold, and on the noble head was a crown sparkling with the most precious stones. The face was fair, the eyes a deep blue, and the long, soft beard was of a beautiful golden-brown. I noticed with surprise that while all of us found it almost impossible to look up to this glorious being, so dazzling was the light about him, Hes- ter looked at him calmly and steadily, and ber’s were the oldest eyes among us. One after another was called up to take his place before the throne and receive his sentence, and I noticed, as each one turned away, their faces expressed either great joy or deep woe. I thought when the minister went forward he would be assigned a place among the many standing about the throne, but what was my surprise to see him turn, with his form bent, in an agony of shame and humiliation, and pass slowly out of sight. The words of condemnation that had jfour (Birls at Gottage Gtty. 305 call of the birds ;_ I could hear the gentle babbling of brooks, and could smell the fragrant rose, lily and heliotrope. I lifted my eyes timidly to Him who walked beside me, and instead of the robe of crimson and gold, I saw he had on one of white. There was no crown upon His head, but oh, the sweetness of the beautiful face. The sternness of the Judge was lost in the love and pity of the Father. I could not for- bear nestling close to Him, and timidly resting my head upon His arm. He gazed down upon me with eyes full of love, but He gently put me away from Him. _‘Sometime, my daughter, but not now. Thou hast not proven thyself worthy. I can never express the feeling of sorrowful humil- iation thatI felt when I heard those words, but my heart took courage at the word ‘sometime.’ I realized, all at once, that He who Walked beside me and He who had given Hester and I strength on our journey, were one and the same, By and by we came to a small hill, or knoll. The grass on this knoll was of the softest green, and felt like velvet to my feet. Dotted all over it were lilies of the valley and heliotrope—their fragrance filled all the air around. Betore us there spread a level plain, and as I first looked at this, not a thing seemed to be on it, but presently I saw figures moving here and there. By and by I could recognize some of them as my fellow-travellers, and as I spoke the jfour (Birls at Glottage Glity. 309 then she would again cast them down upon her book. She turned the leaves hurriedly and seemed to be searching anxiously, first one passage of scripture and then another, but all the time I looked, the ex- pression of her face never changed. As I looked into my companion’s face I noticed that it wore an expression of deep pity, and his voice was sad as he said: ‘ Yonder walks a poor, misguided child.’ ‘ She was one of the most zealous workers in her church,’ I ventured to say. He looked at me reprovingly. ‘ I know all things, child. She sinned most, wherein she wished to be most faith- ful. Such was her anxiety to lead, and to be thought to lead, a true christian life, that she car- ried her ambition too far. She put herself before God. She said ‘I,’ when she ought to have said ‘ He.’ When she spoke to you in the prayer- room, she said : ‘ I am a Christian ; ’ meaning, ‘ I am Christ-like,’ when she ought to have said: ‘ I am trying to be a christian.’ She proved herself hard and unforgiving towards those who often went ‘astray, when the Saviour himself forgave. She preached hell and hell’s-fire to all those who did not believe as she did, when the Saviour says: ‘ Come unto me, all ye who are weary and heavy- laden, and Iwill give you rest.’ ‘ W/zosoever will, let him come.’ He also says: ‘ Repent and be baptized.’ Baptized with the Holy Spirit. Bap- tism by water is right; and blessed are they who ~;.--.~ ' vex-re __1_v 2;: mm War-w ass-"_im ilfour (Birls at Glottage (Mty. an presently.’ ‘ Why! there is Mr. Kenyon!’ I ex- claimed. ‘ And what has he on his back ? ’ Mr. Kenyon was the wealthiest man in New Bedford. He was a member of the Episcopal Church and a good man. He had given his money towards the building of churches and reform houses. He had always contributed largely towards the Missionary funds. He had helped many poor families. I had always said that if there was a heaven, Mr. Kenyon would certainly go to it; and here he was among the outcasts—outcasts for a time — moving slowly and wearily along, his back bent beneath a heavy load. Even as I spoke, he turned, and I saw, written upon the bag, in flaming letters, ‘ Gold!’ I saw that his pockets were weighed down with the same precious metal, and that at every step he took he stumbled upon it so that he could scarcely get one step ahead. His road to heaven was blocked by the very gold that he had worked so hard for, and had enjoyed working for. I saw him hold out whole handfuls of it to different ones, ' as they passed, but each one refused it scornfully. As Laura Barton passed him, he tried to force the gold upon her, but she rejected it with impatient words that I heard plainly. ‘ No, no; keep your gold. We do not need it here. It will not buy the only thing we crave for— light, light, light!’ and she passed on. I looked to my companion. ‘ Was he not a sincere christian ?’ I asked. ‘ He an Jfour (Btrls at Gottage Gite. meant to be, but he loved his gold first. After listening to the minister whom he helped so liber- ally to pay, he would go home and look over his bank books, and the first thing he would ask for in his prayers—his /zean‘ prayers, which only I heard—was that his money might not be taken from him. He said that he wanted it for the good that he might do with it; but I read his heart aright.’ ‘ But,’ I said, ‘he did do good—much good—with his money.’ ‘And received his reward on earth,’ was the answer, sternly spoken. ‘The /zmrt must be right, my child. The Father must be first with all his children. That poor man will one day see the Father, but he must first rid himself of the gold.’ ‘But how can he do that ? No one will take it.’ I was sorry, the moment I had asked the foolish question, and did not need the rebuke that came, to make me hang my head. ‘ With Me, all things are possible.’ * * * There was a woman mov- ing along, her form bent over as though she were picking up something from the ground. I watched her quite a while in silence, but not once did she raise herself. At last she turned to come towards us, still picking as she came and not once lifting her eyes, and I saw that it was Margaret Huntley -—-a woman who had always been considered a good woman, but who had always been a little inclined to gossip about her neighbors. Not that 3‘6 Jfour Girls at Gottage Gity. could have been worse. The agony of remorse! I asked, though my teeth fairly chattered in my head as I spoke, ‘Do their friends—those who loved them, and who always lived good lives— know they are here ?’ ‘ No, and they never will. When they reach the place of eternal happiness all tears shall be wiped from their eyes. Every- thing that could make them sad, while on earth, shall be forgotten there, and they shall be at rest.’ Only one more question I asked. ‘Have you no love for these miserable creatures P’ ‘ No. They rejected it when I begged them to take it, and now it is too late. I dwell with the redeemed, and with them misery is unknown. Come ! we will look on t/zem.’ My eyes closed for a second, and then opened on a sight—the very thought of which fills me with an 'uncontrollable longing to see once more. Oh, such a beautiful country! All light, and joy and music. A country of green hills, pleasant valleys, running brooks, beautiful flowers, singing birds, happy, loving men and women, laughing, playing children, and over all a light that would soothe tired eyes and banish head-ache forevermore—the light of the Father’s tender pres- ence. I stood and drew deep breaths of delight. I could not speak—I could only look. There were whole families grouped together, yet all seemed to love one another with equal love. There walked a girl and the man who had been Ifour Girls at Gottage Gtty. 317 her aflianced husband when on earth, but who had died the week before their marriage would have taken place, walking along, side by side and arm in arm, looking into each other’s face and laughing at each other’s talk. There was a mother and son walking the same way together, only his arm was abouther, and her face, which had been such a pale and sad one on earth, was lifted constantly to his, and was now full of a rest and peace indescribable. In them I recognized two who had been very dear to each other on earth, but the son had died, and, because he had not been a professing christian —though a most worthy young man— the people had doubted much about his being saved. Only the mother had felt sure that she would one day meet her boy again in Heaven. Laura Barton had been the loudest in the expression of her doubts, and he was where she had been so sure of going. As I saw that mother’s face, I felt like bowing down and worshipping Him whose Love and Justice are so great. * * * But there was one whom I' knew well—my fellow-traveler, Hester Norton. Her form was straight, her eye bright, her step quick and sure. She moved about, smiling and saying cheerful words to all. Young girls and young men gathered about her to listen to her words of sweet wisdom. Little children climbed upon her knee. Her life seemed full of work— yet, it was such sweet, joyful work—work that 318 your (Birls at Gottage (ttty. away. never tired. * * * But there was a group,the sight of which made my heart beat fast. All the dear ones of my childhood’s home ——grouped together and talking and laughing. My tears were falling fast, but they did not keep me from’ seeing the two I had loved best— Deborah and Jo — walk away from the others, arm in arm ; and they did not keep me from seeing how firmly and easily Jo walked, and the fairness and the smoothness of his beautiful skin and the bright blue of his eyes; and they did not keep me from seeing mother’s happy, contented look as she watched them move I could not call them back —I did not try to — I only watched them silently for a long while, with my tears falling fast, and wished that I were with them. * * * But then I saw a woman bending over a baby she held in her arms, and the sight made my mother’s heart leap in my bosom. I looked hurriedly around for my little ones, and then I ’felt a hand laid lightly on my arm andI looked up. Oh, the look on the Master’s face as He watched His people! I would have given my life then for one such look for me. He pointed, and I followed his gaze. Oh, most gracious God! There were my darlings coming towards me, hand in hand — Marjorie, Lillis and Hope — Marjie was in the middle and held a hand of each. It seemed as though all the children had been having a frolic of some kind, and they had crowned Marjie queen, Four (BtrIs at Gottage Gity. 319 for on her dark curls rested a wreath of the most beautiful roses, and a garland of them was thrown around one shoulder and fastened at her side. Her dress was like all the others — snowy white and of a thin material. They all three panted a little, as children do, when they have been running, and when they reached a mossy bank, that was all studded with violets and the fragrant arbutus, they threw themselves down upon it and sat there, with their arms around each other. When the other children caught sight of them, theyran with a shout to join them, and forming a ring, they danced around them, singing and laughing. I watched them with strained eyes and hands tightly clasped. ‘Oh, my darlings,’ I kept moaning. ‘Let me go to them. Let me go.’ In a little while the children drew near the group, standing about Hester, and I noticed that as they passed the woman leaning over her baby, Marjie looked back at her over her shoulder—as I thought, wistfully. My heart almost burst. I threw myself down at the Master’s feet and raised'my clasped hands. ‘ She wants me. ’ My Marjie wants her mamma. Let me go for only one moment?’ He stooped down and raised me with infinite tenderness. ‘ Stay here, my child,’ was all he said. In another moment He was among them. And then, such a burst of Heavenly music! I could hear the grand tones of the church organ, the sweet, plaintive jfour (Btrls at Glottage Gtty. 321 was my anxiety to be gone and commence this work, that I might some day be with my darlings, that I tried to run — stumbled and fell. He raised me gently. ‘ So you will fall at every attempt you make to go ahead in your own strength,’ He said, with gentle reproof. As I looked up into His face, I saw it was overspread with a look of sadness. ‘ You promise me, my child ?’ ‘ Yes, Father.’ ‘ And you will do this — for what ? ’ ‘ ThatI may one day be with my darlings.’ I blurted 'this answer out and then could have pulled my tongue out by the roots for wounding the great, unselfish heart. Before I could stammer out my regret He stood, changed, before me. On His head was a crown of sharp thorns that pierced the tender flesh so that great drops'of blood trickled down His face and stained His white robe. He held His hands out before me and I saw the cruel nail prints. I saw the wound in His side and the prints in His feet, and as I looked into His face and saw the look of pain and anguish upon it, such a wave of love and pity filled my heart, as to almost overflow it. I knelt down and tried to dry the blood on His feet with my dress, sobbing as I did so. Then, when I thought I could bear no more, a shadow fell across Him and I saw it take the form of a cross. Even as I looked He stood, nailed to it before me, and I heard His dear voice. ‘For My sake, my child.’ I gave a great cry. 1 324 Jfour (Birls at Gottage ¢itt). parting pat. “ I used to have as much as she has, but it has come out dreadfully.” “ Hh ! Hear old Granny,” said Jessie. “ How old are you anyway, Vera?” “ Five years older than you, Miss,” answered Vera, calmly. “ I don’t think there is much danger of Jessie’s ever being bald,” gasped poor Garnet, who was being forced up on her tip-toes in her endeavors to get Jessie’s hair all combed up smoothly on the top of her head. “ I never saw such a mop.” “ Ow-w-w ! Well, for conscience sake, don’t pull every hair ofit out by the roots,” cried Jessie, making up a most hideous face, and raising both hands to her head. “ Ow-w-w l Drop that comb, Net Dare. Don’t you ,touch my head: again. Do you suppose my scalp 'is made of sheet-iron ? Oh, you’ve killed me ! ” “ Seems to me you’re a pretty lively corpse. That’s all the thanks one gets for trying to help,” said Garnet, obeying orders and going back to her own work. “You’re chief virtue isn’t gratitude; that’s one sure thing, Jessie.” “ Well, for pity’s sake, isn’t it enough to make an angel lose patience to have one’s head tortured in that way?” said Jessie, sorry, but still agrieved. “ And I’m no angel.” “ Amen,” said Garnet, emphatically. “ Let me try being lady’s-maid,” said Allie, looking calm and sweet, in her pretty, cream dress, with her smooth brown hair and fair face. 326 Jfour (Birbs at Gottage Gitt). Just then the professor’s step was heard outside. “ Hide me; hide me l ” gasped Fred, rolling oil" the lounge and beginning to crawl under it. “ That’s no go, Fred,” said Erfort. “There won’t be room under there for the whole of you. He’ll be sure to see —” But he was interrupted by gasps and gurglings from under the lounge, and Fred’s feet were seen to be in a state of violent agitation. They were the only part of him to be seen. “What’s the matter?” asked Erfort. “Got stuck?” Something that sounded like “ Ga, ga, gla,’ was the answer. “ Shall I pull you out ? ” “ Ges.” Erfort stooped and took hold of the feet, and, after a few grunts and groans from Fred, drew him out. They all burst into a merry laugh at the sight he presented. Covered with dust from head to foot! It was in his eyes, his ears, his mouth, his hair. It clung to his neat evening suit. His white collars and cuffs were powdered with it. The laugh grew louder as he sat up on the floor, with an expression of intense disgust on his hand- some face. Erfort took an umbrella that stood in the corner, and, standing the length of it away from Fred, offered him the handle of it. “ You’ll excuse my not coming any nearer, dear chappie,” he said. “ But really — ” Jfour (Birls at Gottage fity. m “ Good evening, all,” said a voice behind them, and Professor Wild came into the room. Fred grasped the umbrella and scrambled to his’ feet. To say that he glared at the professor is a mild way of putting it; then, with one reproachful look into Vera’s laughing eyes, he hurried from the room. Erfort excused himself and followed him. “ Serves him right for getting you into that scrape last night,” whispered Jessie to Vera. “ You seem to have commenced the evening very pleasantly,” said the professor, taking the chair Garnet offered him. “ Was Mr. Travers performing for the amusement of the company ?” Although he smiled as he said this, Vera did not like the tone of his voice, and she did not answer, although he had looked at her as he asked the question. _ “ Fred is splendid company,” replies the staunch Jessie ; and she wonders why Vera gives her such a grateful look. “ Oh, I do not doubt it,” the professor hastens to say. “ He is your cousin, isn’t he ?” There is a slight slur on the last words. “Yes. But that isn’t the reason I said he was splendid company,” flashes Jessie, and Garnet, almost trembling at what may come next, hastens to interpose. “You don’t know with what pleasure we have all looked forward'to this evening, Professor Wild. 328 four (Birls at Gottagé (tite. We expect, before the close of it, to be much en- lightened as to our various virtues, qualifications, 7’ etc. “ She’s scared half out of her wits,” says Jessie to Vera, sotto voce. Aloud she asks, suddenly, “ Can you mesmerize, professor ? ” “ Yes,” replies the professor, much to the girls’ surprise. “ Why do you ask ?” “ Oh, I thought you looked as though you did,’ was the rather alarming answer. “ Will you try to mesmerize me ? ” “ With pleasure.” He rises from his chair, as he speaks, and ap- proaches Jessie in her rocker. Garnet gives a little gasp, but does not speak. She knows it will do no good. Vera’s white hands clasp each other tightly. She tries to laugh, but cannot. Allie says, faintly: “Oh, Jess!” but Jessie herself sits up' straight in her chair and looks up steadily into the professor’s eyes. He stands before her, tall and gaunt looking. Vera cannot bear the looks of his face; it is pale, and, it seems to her, cruel looking. She wishes Jessie had not said anything. “The child is as nervous as a little witch,” she thought. “ But she has too much spirit to let him see it.” “ Look steadily into my eyes,” the professor says gravely, and the big black eyes look into his. Then his great hand begins to move slowly to and fro before the little, brilliant face. Slowly, 330 Jfour (Btrls at Gottage Gtty. fessor, who is eyeing her in a half scornful, half amused and wholly triumphant manner. Fred comes forward and stands looking at her, with his hands in his pockets. “ Been getting mesmerized ?’’ he asks, ele- gantly. His voice expresses the liveliest sympathy, but Jessie doesn’t appreciate it. “ Shut up,” is the answer that slightly staggers him. ' But he understands his little cousin well enough by this time to know that “ her bark is worse than her bite.” “ No; but have you, Jess ?” he asks. “Yes, I have; if that’s any comfort to you. Don’t you want to try it?” “ Yes I do.” The professor comes forward, very obligingly. I think he is very glad for the chance. Fred looks at him defiantly. “ Shall I sit or stand ?” he asks. “ Either. You choose,” is the answer. “ Then I’ll stand.” Once more the large hand begins its mesmeric movement. The boyish handsome face and the pale, cruel-looking one, are close together. The dark blue eyes look bravely into the unmatched ones. The girls'almost hold their breath and watch. Erfort looks on with disgust and disap- proval written plainly on his face. By and by all four (Bins at Gottage Gity. 331 see that the color is leaving Fred’s face just as it had left Jessie’s. The blue eyes commence to move unsteadily and look dim. There is a startled, uncertain, strange look on his face. The professor is getting excited. His subject is coming under his control just as he would best like to have him. The perspiration stands out on his face. Without once removing his eyes from Fred’s, he throws back his coat and lets it slip to the floor, then he passes his hands more and more rapidly before Fred’s eyes. All expression is gone now from Fred’s face. The eyes are dull and dreamy looking— he appears as though half asleep. The professor sees ' that his time has come. “ What is your name? ” he asks. The pale lips move once or twice and then the answer comes, stammeringly, but clearly: “ F-f-red.” “Where do you live?” “ B-b-oston.” “ What is your business — your work ? ” “ C-c-lerk.” “ \Vhat kind of a clerk ? ” “ Invoice and shipping clerk.” The answer came unhesitatingly, now. “ On what street do you live ?” “ Tremont street.” “ How many in your family ?” 332 Jfour Girls at Gottage Gity. “ Four.” “ Who are they ?” “ Father, mother, sister and myself.” “ Are you engaged to be married ?” “ No.” “ Do you care for anyone ? ” “ Yes.” “ Who is it ?” But before Fred can answer, Erfort steps quickly forward and takes hold of the moving hand. “ That will do, professor,” he says, gravely. “ You are going too far.” Fred had certainly commenced to speak the word ‘ Vera,’ but, as the hand stopped moving before his face, his voice stopped and the dreamy look commenced to leave his eyes. The professor saw this and clapped his hands softly, once or twice, close to Fred’s face, then shook him slightly. Fred at once gave a slight shiver, yawned, stretched out his arms, as though just awaking, closed his eyes, and then opened them suddenly, and looked around the room with a wondering, surprised look. It didn’t take him long to realize what had been taking place. Thoroughly ashamed and confused, be excused himself and went out on the piazza. ' Vera happened to look at Garnet. Her face almost frightened her. There was scarcely a particle of color in it. She looked intensely eager. Jfour (Birls at Gottagc (lity. 333 “She believes that man has power to do with people as he pleases. She won’t believe that it is simply the influence of a strong mind over a weaker one. Merely a matter of will-power. I’ll prove it to her— it is my duty.” Thus Vera talked with herself. Aloud, she said : “ Will you try me, professor ?” Fairly elated with his former successes, the pro- ' fessor hastily says : “ Certainly, Miss Earle.” She brings her chair forward to the light and sits facing him. He looks down into the fair, proud face, and, as he reads the determination written upon it, he presses his lips closely together, and his eyes look angry. Vera sees this, and laughs to herself. “Mes- merize me, if you can,” her eyes say plainly. The professor begins. Fred sees them through the window and comes in quietly. Two or three minutes pass without a sound being heard in the room. The professor begins to get nervous. He stoops down until his face is so close to Vera’s that she can feel his breath, but still she looks into his eyes calmly and fearlessly; the mocking smile still rests on her lips, but she has to bring all the will-power she possesses to bear against his. Once or twice she feels a dreamy sensation stealing over her, but the sudden, eager look that springs into the 334 Jfour (Birls at Gottage Gtty. professor’s eyes brings her to herself and she is de- termined she will not yield. ' Five minutes pass — it seems an hour. The professor loses suflicient control of himself to allow a look of impatient rage to appear on his face. Vera sees it and she laughs aloud. That ends it. The professor rises to his feet with a mut- tered exclamation. “ Simply a question of will-power, professor, says Vera, gayly, fully repaid for her little “ incon- venience ” by seeing Garnet look thoroughly disap- pointed — not to say disgusted. “You were determined not to. You wouldn’t put your mind on what I was doing,” said the pro- fessor, trying to conceal his chagrin by speaking pleasantly. “ Ah, you confirm what I say,” said Vera. “ Confess now ; there is no secret about it. Simply the influence ofa strong mind over a weaker one." Her will certainly proved itself stronger than his, for she forced the truth from him. “ That is the whole secret,” he said; and no one but Vera heard the soft sigh that expressed Gar- net’s deep disappointment. And it was the only way in which it was ever 7, expressed. “ Well,” remarked Jessie, who had been listening and watching with her big eyes growing bigger every minute. “ All I can say is, that it makes ‘ he 338 jfour (Birls at Giottagc Gity. thinker, but you will never do anything remark- able to make yourself known outside your own circle of acquaintances. You are too easily dis- couraged. You cannot sympathize with the ordi- nary man and woman of to-day— they weary you. You want something higher, nobler, loftier, but you will never reach the standard of living that you would be glad to reach, for, instead of work- ing, you will only think, and dream and read, and long. But even this will bring you much pleasure -—-a pleasure such as only deep natures like your’s can enjoy. There is one thing that I must warn you against. Do not encourage any inclination you may have to believe in the supernatural. Let such things as spiritualism, mesmerism, palmistry and all other nonsense alone. To such a person as you, indulgence in these beliefs would prove fatal. It would bring you great unhappiness, and I tell you candidly, there is no truth in them. Take a leaf from your friend’s book and be more matter-of-fact and less romantic.” The professor bowed towards Vera, when he gave this bit of advice. Garnet was indignant at being called romantic (what really romantic person is not?) but she was used to keeping her indignation to herself—as a general thing—and said nothing- Erfort and Fred took the chair in turn, but space will not allow me to give the result of the examina- tions. ‘- Jfour (Birls at Gottage Gite. 339 It was a pleasant evening, in spite of the rather unfavorable beginning, and when the professor left them they all thanked him heartily for his kindness. Garnet made them all laugh by asking him, gravely, what was the commercial value of her skull. He told them he had parts of more than one human head in bottles of alcohol in his ofiice at home. Jessie made believe faint away at this, and after they had gone to their room she made Vera and Garnet barricade the door, for fear, as she said, that the professor would come in there and murder her in her sleep, for she was sure he had discovered, that night, that she had a remarkable head, and he would do his best to come into possession of it. CHAPTER X X I V “ Say girls ” said Jessie the next morning after prayers, “ guess what I’m going to do. ” “ Have mercy upon us, Jessica,” said Vera, “ and don’t make us guess this hot morning, but tell us at once. ” “ Well then, lazy-bones, I’m going down to ‘Macy’s ’ and look at that lovely amber set I saw there the other day. ” . “ You’ll only come back and have another crying spell because you can’t have it, ” said Garnet. “I wouldn’t go.” “ Well, I will go; and I shan’t come home and cry because I can’t buy it either, I’ve got too much to be thankful for. But dear me! wouldn’t I love to have it though. Wouldn’t that pin look lovely in my hair? Yellow and black. Oh — h l” and Jessie sighed as she stood before the glass and put her hat on. “ You’ll come with me, won’t you, Allie? I shall want some one to tear me away.” “ Of course I’ll go. Will you go down to the Tower afterwards and watch the bathers?” “ Yes, I believe it is your turn to treat on soda to day, isn’t it? ” jfour (Btrls at Gottage (Mty. 343 new piano, let us give it towards making Robin 11 well boy. What do you say, Net ?” No need for Net to say anything. Her eyes are answer enough. “We’ll tell the girls when they come back from the beach, and the boys, this afternoon. They must know of some good doctor in Boston who would undertake the case.” When Jessie and Allie returned, about 12 o’clock, they found Vera and Garnet still in their room ~— their eyes very bright, and their cheeks very red. Jessie looked at them sharply, as she threw Net’s bag of pop-corn into her lap. “ You girls look as though you were being roasted alive. Why don’t you go out and get a breath of fresh air ? But the sun is hot! Where is the ‘ Gloria water 9’ My nose is burnt to a crisp. Ah, “thank you, Al. I’ll bathe the injured member. Oh, Al and I have had such fun! I didn’t buy the amber set, Net, so I am not bank- rupt, but I did want it so I ached. There were as many as two hundred in bathing, this morning, wasn’t there Al ? and the band played beautifully. Oh, you ought to have seen the old fattie trying to learn to swim. Ithought Ishould die! Two or three young men held him up, and you ought to have seen him kicking his fat legs around! More than half the time he was all under water—all we could see was his bald head bobbing up and down, 344 four (Birls at (Iottagc Gite. and then all of a sudden he would pop up and splash about and almost knock the young men off their feet. And then, to cap all,I declare if he didn’t try to dive off the raft. Ha, ha, ha! Oh, my sakes —I almost had a fit. I guess the inhab- itants of the briny deep thought there was an earth- quake when he struck the water. Ha, ha, ha !” and Jessie, who had been sitting on the foot-board, swinging her feet, leaned back to laugh, lost her balance and fell—heels over head, on to the bed, where she lay, laughing immoderately. The others laughed in sympathy, and then Allie said: “ You girls have been planning something, while Jess and I have been out.> What is it ?” Vera told her. Jessie stopped laughing and sat up on the bed to listen, her eyes growing brighter and brighter, until by the time Vera stopped, they were like two stars. She clasped her hands, gave one very deep, long sigh and then sat very still, and all that the girls Could get her to say was: “ Let me alone. I’m thinking.” She went oil' by herself in the afternoon, and no one knew where she went, or what she was doing. The boys came at the usual time, and they all sat waiting for her on the piazza. Just as they were beginning to grow anxious, she appeared around the corner of the house, walking very slowly, and with a very clouded, troubled little face. Fred was rash enough to say: “ Well, what a forlorn-looking little thunder cloud ! ” 346 Jfour Girls at Gottage Gity. He did not tell what he would do, but all felt ' that it would be no little thing. “ Net and I are going to give one-tenth of every month’s salary,” said Vera. “That will be just $4.80 apiece.” Jessie turned at this and looked at Vera and Garnet. “ Are you, really ?” she asked slowly. “Yes,” answered Vera. “ And [/611 we won’t begin to pay the debt we owe Mrs. Hood.” Jessie looked puzzled for a moment, then under- standing, she looked away with flushed cheeks. Allie walked between Vera and Garnet, and as she took an arm of each, gave it a loving little squeeze. Erfort looked pleased, and Fred broke down in the middle of “Comrades,” that he had commenced to softly whistle. “Father gives me $1.00 a week,” said Allie. “I don’t know what in the world I have always done with it, but I shall know after this.” All waited, but Jessie never spoke, and even Fred refrained from asking her what they all _ wanted to know. When they reached Mrs. Hood’s, all was very still. They went to the open door and listened. They heard the same pitiful moaning, and the same loving, caressing voice that they had heard on their first visit. and they stood and looked at each other with tearful eyes. Jessie sobbed out- right, and so hard, that Garnet put her arms about Jfour Girls at Gottage Git‘). 347 her and tried to soothe her. Then Mrs. Hood stood before them in the doorway. For the first time, they saw the calmness of that face broken up. It was quivering with untold suf- fering, and the blue eyes were full of tears. She put out her hands to them in a beseeching way. “Oh, my boy is suffering so. It is terrible. Will you be displeased with me if I ask you not to come in? To-morrow, perhaps, but not to-day. Oh, it breaks my heart to see him.” Then she turned and went hurriedly back into the room, and our young people—knowing that the greatest kindness they could do her, although they longed to help her, would be to go away- turned their steps homeward. Jessie stopped sobbing, after a little while, and walked quietly along with her arm drawn through Garnet’s. “ Let’s not go back to the cottage, said Vera, “ let us walk along the beach.” They turned and went down to the beach. Everything was so bright, so gay, so~beautifull Children’s voices came merrily up 'from the shore where they were playing. They thought of that other childish voice that so seldom uttered anything but moans, and their hearts were very sad. They sat down on the sand, silent and thoughtful. All at once Jessie startled them by saying vehemently : “ I want to tell you all what a mean little wretch I have been. I have been trying, all this after- 348 jfour (Btrls at Gottage Gite. noon, to make up my mind to give up one paltry winter’s pleasure, for the sake of adding my mite towards helping that little angel who is suffering so terribly. Don’t you hate me for it ? I hate myself‘ Here I have lived seventeen happy, painless years, while that poor boy has had scarcely as many pain- less months, and now it has actually been a trial _ for me to relinquish one littlepleasure for the sake of seeing him well and happy. Oh, I am such a miserable little sinner.” Down went the little dark head into Vera’s lap‘ and the sobbing commenced again. Vera smoothed the head tenderly. “ Don’t cry, Jasmine,” she said. “ We are all miserable sinners. Tell us what your paltry pleas- ure is. We may not call it so.” “ Why, it was only this. I have been trying to make up my mind to give the twenty-five dollars I have saved for my elocution this winter, towards the doctor’s bill. Isn’t that sinful and selfish and everything else that is bad? But I’ll give it cheer- fully and freely, and only wish it were twice as much.” All were silent for a moment. Every one was touched, but perhaps Garnet was the only one who understood thoroughly, what Jessie was giving up. Her elocution was everything to her. She had placed great dependence on the following winter’s course, and now to give it up for another year—— Jfour 6M5 at (tottage mty. 349 Garnet almost reverenced her little sister at that moment, and from that time she loved her and respected her as she never had done before and had almost been afraid she never would do. After a little while they were more cheerful. It was impossible to see so much light-hearted care- lessness around them and not catch the infection. At the end of an hour they were laughing and talk- ing as usual, though not for one moment forgetting the suffering ones. “Are you going to tell Professor Wild of your plan?” asked Erfort. “ A lot of good it would do to tell him,” said Fred. scornfully. “ I bet he’s a stingy beggar. I don’t like that man, He looks like a wife murderer.” They fairly shouted at this, and Fred looked slightly aggrieved. “What are you laughing at? Didn’t you ever hear of a wife-murderer? ” You’ll have to christen him over again,” said Erfort, “ and call him “Blue Beard.’ “He may be one for all I know,” said Fred lying back on the sand and pulling his cap over his eyes. “We’ll give him the benefit of the doubt any- way,” said Erfort. “ We won’t exactly ask him to contribute, because he may think we’ll skip over the line with it, but we’ll tell him the story— or the principle part of it, and then he can do as he pleases about it.” 350 four (Birls at Gottage (tite. “And that will be nothing, I'm thinking,” mut- tered skeptical Fred. “ We’ll try anyway.” And they did, that very evening, sitting out on the piazza. Professor Wild listened, leaning back in his chair with his hands in his pockets. When Erfort finished, he said: “I’m going home to-morrow. I can’t tell how sorry I am to leave you all.” Then he stopped, and Fred, confident that he had judged the professor rightly,_put out his foot and gave, or intended to give Erfort a suggestive kick, but instead, kicked his chair. He made no slight noise, and what was worse, the professor turned his head and looked down with a curious smile, just in time to catch sight of the hastily withdrawn foot. “ Confound the man,” said Fred to himself. “ He’s always catching me.” The professor drew one hand out of his pocket and held it towards Erfort. “There is a little towards helping on the good work,” he said. “And here — taking a card from his card case— “ is my address. If you need more money than you can raise, I hope you will not for- get me. ' I’m not a rich man, but I will do whatI can.” Although no one, not even Erfort himself, knew how large or how small the bill was that the pro- fessor had given, yet fhey thanked him heartily for jfour (Birls at Gottage (my, 351 his good will and kindness in giving even a little. Their gratitude pleased him, but very soon after, he said good-night and good-bye, and left them, and they have never seen him since, but you may be sure they will never forget him. The girls crowded eagerly around Erfort. “ What did he give? Do let us see.” Erfort smoothed out the crumpled bill — ten dol- lars. . “ Oh, isn’t he splendid! ” “ Isn’t he kind l” “ I never will judge a man by his face again!" “ That serves me right for calling him ‘ Uriah Heep.’ ” “ He’s just as good as he can be ! ” Such were the very feminine expressions that were uttered by our girls, but Fred did not “ die easily.” “ Better see ifit’s a counterfeit, Er,” he suggested, warily. “ It’s a good one,” assured Erfort. Still Fred did not give up. “ He’s got an ugly temper, anyway. He proved that last night. Wasn’t he as mad as a hatter because he couldn’t mesmerize Vera?” “ No one is perfect,” said Vera, ashamed of her own ungenerous thoughts and feelings toward the professor. “ And it seems to me that you are not in a very ‘angelic temper this evening, Mr. Travers.” That almost broke Fred’s heart. As soon as the others were talking, he drew Vera one side and 354 jfour (Birls at Giottage Gtty. “ Hang on to that oar,” shouted Fred, forgetting everything but the danger. And Vera, frightened at his voice, gave the oar a desperate wrench and drew it into the boat. The next minute they drifted into the ocean. I shall not tell what Fred said as he lay at her feet, wrapped in her cape, and she rowed him up and down the silvery path that the moon made on the water, but she looked across at the twinkling eyes of the beautiful yacht, and she said “that she had known him only two weeks, and she was sure’ that he did not know his own mind. Of course, she couldn’t know hers in that short time. No, she was not displeased, but she could not promise anything.” There must have been something more encour- aging in her looks than in her words, for Fred did not appear a bit cast down. He fervently assured her that he loved her just as much at the end of two weeks as though he had known her two years. But Vera stopped him and ordered him back to his own end of the boat. It was late and they must go home. She would row and he must steer. Fred obeyed; but when he felt for the rope, there was no rope there. “ We’ve lost the rudder! ” he exclaimed. “Dear, dear!” said Vera. “What shall we do ?,” “ Oh, we’ll find it. It must have stuck in the sand‘” 360 jfour (Birls at (Iottage Ging. tenderest light in the glorious eyes. Then, at night when the lamp was burning,‘ and the pain was almost unendurable, Robin would feel his little tortured body lifted by arms that were young and strong, and his eyes would open, sometimes on a fair, handsome face, with blue eyes and clustering brown curls, and sometimes on a dark, grave one, with a noble brow and tender, dark eyes. He would know then all, and would almost break their hearts, by trying to smile up in their faces and thanking them in a weak little voice, but the smile would change to a spasm of pain and the voice to a moan. So the days and nights passed, until the last one came, and found Robin lying on his bed, white as a snow-drift, but, for the time, free from pain. They were all there with him, sitting in their accustomed places—for the last time. The night before, Erfort had spoken to Mrs. Hood about their plan, and he had been more surprised than he could tell, when she had sunk down in the kitchen rocker, buried her face in her hands, and sobbed as though her heart would break. . But it was all settled now, and as she sat in their midst this afternoon, it seemed as though she could scarcely take her eyes from their faces. They had been speaking about it, just a little, and Jessie expressed the wish of all, when she said in her old, impulsive fashion: Four $trls at Gottage Gtty. 361 “Now, Mrs. Hood, please don’t spoil it all by saying you will accept our little gift on one condi- tion : —That you will pay it back to us some day. It will take all the good away if you do. Let our first efi'ort to do a little good, be as successful as it can possibly be. Besides, you will not owe us any- thing; we are only paying our debt.” And then Jessie had stopped, her face all one rich color. Mrs. Hood had looked a little surprised at first, but only for a minute, then she had understood and her heart was so full that she could only kiss each one silently and then sit back in her chair and they had heard her say softly: “ For z‘/zy dear sake, Lord.” And now they were waiting to hear the last chapter that had been written, from the book of her life. She told it in a very few words. It seemed as though her heart was so full that she could not bear to talk much. “ After that night,‘ when I had my dream I was very sick with brain fever. Was it any wonder ? And when, after many weeks, I rose from the bed, I was a different woman. Mr. Hood was very kind to me, and at the end of a year I married him. I united with the Baptist Church, and I tried, earnestly and faithfully, to lead a true, chris- tian life. I felt that I owed my Saviour for all those wasted years. It was sweet to trust Him ; it 366 Jfour (Birls at Gottage Gltte. like to think of God as being a stern, condemning judge, but as a loving, pitying, merciful Father— One to whom we can go in our trouble and distress, go to Him just as we are in all our sin, and ask Him to help us and forgive us. Iknow there is danger of our taking advantage of His willingness to forgive, but we ought not to do that, and if we think of all His tender love for us, and all His patient goodness, we will not do it. But it is blessed to me to have the assurance of His great love, and His forgiveness is the assurance.” “ Mrs. Hood,” said Erfort, “ do you really think that Heaven is like the place you dreamed of?” “ I am sure it is. I love to think ofits being so.” “When do you think it is too late to repent?” asked Vera. “ Not until the breath leaves your body. But it always seems to me that such a repentance is an insult to God. It is dreadful for’ one to give his whole life to the world, and only a few paltry, mis- erable minutes --— and those his last— to God.” “ But you don’t think such persons go straight to Heaven ? ” said Fred. “ No, I do not. It doesn’t seem to me that they ought to. Not that I begrudge them the happi- ness, but they ought to do their part of the great work while on earth. I may be wrong. I dare say most ministers would pronounce such theory heretical, but I am jealous for God. I want to see 368 four (Birls at Gottage Gite. After a few moments more our young people rose to go. It was a hard parting, but they all looked eagerly forward to the glad, happy meeting in the fall. At last they were on their way to the cottage. They talked a little while at the gate, then the boys left them, but they came again, after supper, and spent the evening with the girls, on the piazza. The next morning at 8.30, the trunks were standing in the room, packed, locked, and strapped, and the girls stood, pulling on their gloves and looking around the dear room with dim eyes. What happy hours they had spent there ! A knock sounded on the door— a timid, uncer- tain knock, and all smiled as they called to- gether: “ Come in l ” The door opened and there stood ‘ Mother,’ with the pretty blue morning cap on, that the girls had given her the night before, tears in her dim blue eyes, and her hands full of books. ‘ Grandpa ’ appeared in the background, the girls’ present, a black silk handkerchief, clasped in his shaking hand. “My dear children,” said ‘Mother,’ and her voice trembled more than they had ever heard it before, “I can’t tell ye how sorry me and Mr. Atherton are to lose ye. We shall miss hearing ye laughing and singing, and running up and down the stairs, but we shall never forget ye and will pray for ye every night. Here is something your (Bins at Gottage Gity. 369 for ye to remember us by,” and she put into the hands of each a neat black testament. _Y d ' The girls opened them and saw their names written in a trembling, shaking hand, and under the name was written in each : “ From Grandpa and Grandma Atherton.” ‘ Mother’ put her hand out and commenced to force ‘ Grandpa’ gently out of the room, but the girls ran forward, and, putting their arms around first ‘ Mother’s ’ and then ‘ Grandpa’s’ neck, thanked them and kissed them until ‘Mother’s’ new cap fell off and ‘ Grandpa’s’ spectacles were slipped down on the extreme end of his nose. Then the man came for the trunks, last good- byes were said, and the girls ran down the stairs, through the little parlor, down the walk, and out through the gate, where they stopped and looked up to the balcony. ‘ Mother’ and ‘ Grandpa’ stood there, his left hand clasping her’s, as it rested on his arm, her right shading her dim blue eyes, as she looked after the girls. And so they passed from their sight, and the next time their eyes will look upon them will be in a better world than this, where none ever grow old, and where friends never part from friends.' CHAPTER XXVI. It has been accorded authors the privilege of adding any number of years to their heroes’ and heroines’ lives, that they find most convenient. I will take advantage of the privilege and add the number of five years to the lives of my young people, and even they will pardon me, I think, when they can see what pleasure I can give my readers by doing so. I want you to come with me to a house on S— street, in the city of Pawtucket, R. I. We have reached the house, rung the bell, and been con- ducted up the stairs by a young man whom we have certainly seen before. He stops on the first landing and looks back at us. The light from the upper hall-lamp shines full upon him. We give an exclamation of delight. We know that fair, handsome face, with its dark blue eyes and curly brown hair, although the “faint apology” of five years ago on the upper lip, has grown into a hand- some drooping mustache, with just enough curl in the ends to make it “too lovely for anything ; ” so his wife says. Fred Travers? Yes, of course it is he. He is in evening dress and wears a red pink in his but- jfour Girls at Gottage (Bity. 371 tonhole. We ask him no questions, but follow where he leads, which is to a room on the right of the hall, into which he bows us and closes the door upon us. But we are not in the least dismayed for there are plenty of other ladies there, all doing what we proceed to do, i. e., take our wraps off, shake out our trains, go up to one of the mirrors, pat and smooth and gently pull out our curled bangs, fasten the roses and lilies among the lace on our bosoms, and then stand one side to make room for_those who are just entering, and talk and laugh and ask each other “if our train hangs right,” and, “ will you please fasten that hateful little lock to my back hair? it won’t stay where it belongs,” and, “will you please tell me if you think my flowers are pinned too high up on the shoulder? Do you think they would look better at the left side?” To all these questions we receive the flattering answers: “Your train hangs perfectly lovely.” “That lock looks too cute for anything — don’t touch it.” “Your flowers look just right—they are lovely.” Answers which our vain hearts had expected to receive and which would have been disappointed if they had not received. But as we look around we do not see one face that is familiar to us. All bright, fair, girlish and sweet, but not one familiar one. At last the door 'opens and a voice says : “ Now, ladies; Prepare l ” Your (Birls at Gottage (Mty. 373 We wait a few moments for one who has not come and whom we long to see. We miss the brilliant little face, and the ringing, girlish voice, but we wait in vain. Listen. “ Oh, Vera, you look for all the world like a bride yourself.” “And why shouldn’t I ? only three years old.” (So Vera is married then? Why yes; didn’tI say that Fred’s wife says—you know what, about his mustache). “Don’t you wish it were you, Allie, who was going to be the centre of attraction to-night ? ” “ Oh no, Net. Father couldn’t get along with- out his housekeeper.” “ And Net won’t get married until she meets with a second Emerson. What was it the professor said, Net ? ” “Stop your nonsense. Hood.” “ Not at all, my dears. to be shocked.” . The door opens. Vera starts forward. “ Oh, Fred, your pink is falling out. Let me fix it.” ' Fred stands obediently still, but there is an anxious look on his face, which cannot be brought there by a drooping flower. My wedding dress is We will shock Mrs. I am too happy to-night jfout (Btrls at Gottage (Etty. 375 r into them. We follow his glance and we see that it is the face that is framed in silvery-white hair that his eyes rest upon. Do you know who he is ? After him walks a tiny figure that makes every- one smile. It walks along in such a sedate, dig- nified manner. The little form is covered with a dress of white silk. Lovely golden curls cluster in the dimpled, white neck. The large gray eyes shine like two stars out of the small pink and white face. The tiny hands grasp a large bouquet of orange-blossoms. A wee maid of honor! Is she frightened ? Not a bit. Two-year-old Marjorie is a brave little lady. Next comes—well, did you ever, in all your life, see a more charming bride! A lovely white silk dress, covered, but not hidden, by a beautiful bridal veil. A small head with a wreath of orange- blossoms resting on the heavy, dark braids. Eyes that we know full well by the way they flash and shine. But what makes the small face look so. pale ? Where is all its brilliant color ? We hear Garnet whisper to Allie: “The poor child is frightened half out of her wits.” Isn’t the speech characteristic ? We know the one who walks be- side her, and on whose arm she is so trustingly leaning. The dark face is scarcely changed. The eyes are just as tender and dreamy as when we first saw them five years ago. He is one with 'whom we can safely trust our little girl, for WW m~m mum m1?‘ __ 376 four (Birls at Gottage Gitt). every look the dark eyes give her are full of a deep, abiding love. _ Really, I am so confused that all the wordsl hear, are: “ Erfort Merlin Richards, Jessie Isabel Dare, I pronounce you man and wife.” But then, they are the most important ones after all. Will you please excuse me ifI omit the congrat- ulations and the supper, and the talking and laugh- ing, and everything else ? They are only a very small consideration anyway. And at what better time could I leave my young people than at this most joyful of all joyful occasions, when they are all together, and oh, so happy! In as few words as I can possibly cut it down to, let me tell how the noble plan was carried on and out. Erfort was true to his promise, and held' an interview with Dr. C.—, one of Boston’s leading physicians. His price was almost startling— $500. But our young people were determined. Mrs. Hood and Robin were taken to Boston. They had a private room in the great hospital. Two years passed slowly by, and one day, at 'the end of the two years, our girls started for Boston, Vera carrying the same “ bank” that she had carried to Cottage City, but now it was a bank in earnest, for it contained the big sum of $500. I wish you could have seen them as they drew near Boston. It would be hard to tell which pair of eyes was the brightest. They had worked four Girls at Gottagc Gity. 379 and the lady of the house should not be at home, just go to the other two houses and you will find her at one of them. I suppose, before many years, the plate on Mrs. Hood’s door will bear the name: “ Dr. R. Hood,” and who can doubt that, with such a physi- cian as Dr. C— to help, advise and teach him, Robin will be one of the leading physicians of Boston, some day. He has made up his mind to make all diseases of the spine his special study. ,If he were to live to be one hundred years old, he could never forget the pain he suffered—child though he was; and he will do all in his power to alleviate the sufferings of all who are afflicted, even as he was. With such a mother to love and cheer, such a friend as Dr. C — to help and advise, and, above all, such a Father in Heaven to guide, strengthen and protect, who can doubt his success ? THE END. ., All’: OF“ “. “_: EI_'T Tr‘T'_f‘" ‘4 i 1 . 'if: IANAWA" i’-m’we’ Afiwe~emgni ll