She does seem to be getting worse and worse. She makes her sleep
on a sofa beside her, and she begins to look dreadfully worn out.
I do believe she'll kill her, before she dies herself. I told her
so to-day, but she only smiled. It's funny, but I like her even if
I am bolted out all the time. I ain't jealous, and I'm glad of the
rest. I should think her throat would split with talking so much,
but she certainly does hear her better than anyone else. I think
something must be done, though. She's getting as crazy as she is
herself. They play cards and call each other "aunty" for two hours
at a stretch some days.

Respectfully,

L. COOKE.

At the end of the week Lucinda wrote again:

I think if you don't come, she will surely die. She is very feeble
herself, but that don't keep her from wearing her to skin and
bone. She keeps her doing tricks from morning to night. Every
minute that she is awake she keeps her jumping. It's a mercy she
sleeps so much, or she wouldn't get any sleep at all. I can't do
nothing, but I can see something has got to be done. She's killing
her, and she's getting where she don't care for nobody but her,
and if she's to be kept in trim to keep on amusing her she'll have
to have some rest pretty quick.

Respectfully,

L. COOKE.

If the sisters were perturbed by the general trend of these epistles, Jack
was half wild over the situation. He swore vigorously and he tramped up
and down his room nights until the people underneath put it in their
prayers that his woes might suggest suicide as speedily as possible. In
vain he wrote to Mrs. Rosscott to restore Janice to her proper place in
town; Mrs. Rosscott answered that as long as Aunt Mary desired Janice at
her side, at her side Janice should stay. Jack knew his lady well enough
to know that she would keep her word, and although he longed to assert his
authority he was man enough to feel that he had better wait now and settle
the debt after marriage.

Nevertheless the whole affair was unbearably vexatious and at last he felt
that he could endure it no longer.

"I'm a fool," he said, in a spirit of annoyance that came so close to
anger