f loss and separation.

The parting at Burnet was not a cheerful one. Clover was oppressed with
the nearness of untried responsibilities; and though she kept up a brave
face, she was inwardly homesick. Phil slept badly the night before the
start, and looked so wan and thin as he stood on the steamer's deck beside
his sisters, waving good-by to the party on the wharf, that a new and
sharp thrill of anxiety shot through his father's heart. The boy looked so
young and helpless to be sent away ill among strangers, and round-faced
little Clover seemed such a fragile support! There was no help for it. The
thing was decided on, decided for the best, as they all hoped; but Dr.
Carr was not at all happy in his mind as he watched the steamer become a
gradually lessening speck in the distance, and he sighed heavily when at
last he turned away.

Elsie echoed the sigh. She, too, had noticed Phil's looks and papa's
gravity, and her heart felt heavy within her. The house, when they reached
it, seemed lonely and empty. Papa went at once to his office, and they
heard him lock the door. This was such an unusual proceeding in the middle
of the morning that she and Johnnie opened wide eyes of dismay at each
other.

"Is papa crying, do you suppose?" whispered John.

"No, I don't think it can be _that_. Papa never does cry; but I'm afraid
he's feeling badly," responded Elsie, in the same hushed tone. "Oh, dear,
how horrid it is not even to have Clover at home! What _are_ we going to
do without her and Katy?"

"I don't know I'm sure. You can't think how queer I feel, Elsie,--just as
if my heart had slipped out of its place, and was going down, down into my
boots. I think it must be the way people feel when they are homesick. I
had it once before when I was at Inches Mills, but never since then. How I
wish Philly had never gone to skate on that nasty pond!" and John burst
into a passion of tears.

"Oh, don't, don't!" cried poor Elsie, for Johnnie's sobs were infectious,
and she felt an ominous lump coming into her own throat, "don't behave so,
Johnnie. Think if papa came out, and found us crying! Clover particularly
said that we must make the house bright for him. I'm going to sow the
mignonette seed [desperately]; come and help me. The trowel is on the back
porch, and you might get Dorry's jack-knife and cut some little sticks to
mark the places."

This expedient was successful. Johnnie, who loved to "whittle" above all
things, dried