but without success, and she has quite lost the wish to have
them published. Your good opinion of her verses only gave her a little
temporary encouragement."

"She writes none now, I suppose?"

"She has no time even if she had the inclination. Mrs. and Miss
Phillips keep her so busy that I have difficulty in getting her out in
the middle of the day to join me and the children in our walk or drive;
but that the doctor insisted on as absolutely necessary, and I will not
allow her to be deprived of it. He took quite a fancy to Elsie, and
showed her much kindness. You ought to go to see him for your father's
sake. But as to Elsie's poetry, she does nothing in this way except
improvising to the children in the evening, as she is sitting at work.
When they found out that she could, as they said, 'make verses up out
of her own head,' they think all their stories should be transferred
into ballads, and either said or sung to them. They are honest in their
admiration of the talent, but rather exacting in their demands for its
exercise; on the whole, I think, however, that it does her good, and I
know the children are fonder of her than of me. I am so glad to see her
preferred."

"Do you see much of Mr. Brandon? Could not he restore your sister to
the self-appreciation so essential to happiness and contentment?"

Jane shook her head. "He is devoting himself to Miss Phillips, and
Elsie scarcely ever sees him."

"One consequence of her taking this situation," said Francis, somewhat
impatiently. "I fancy he admired her when I saw him at Peggy Walker's,
months ago, and that he only wanted to be more in her society to have
the impression deepened. Did you not think so?"

"His admiration went a little way, but not far," said Jane.

"Not so far as to lead to a proposal?" said Francis.

"People are generally far gone before they reach that point," said
Jane, hoping to escape thus from a rather searching question; but a
look from Francis, very sad, yet very pleasing to herself, made her
change the subject altogether. She liked to believe that she was very
dear to him; they could never marry; there was far too much to forbid
it--duty, interest, near relationship. Francis' life and career were
too important to be tacked to any woman's apron-strings, even though
that woman was herself, and the plans she had so much delighted in she
could see worthily carried out. She would not be the hindrance and
stumbling-block to any good life,