ning Mary, who, she said, was undoubtedly
feigning her sickness, so as not to appear in her classes, where she
knew she could do herself no credit; "but," said she, "as soon as the
examination is over, she'll get well fast enough, and bother us with
her company to Chicopee."

In this Hose was mistaken, for when the exercises closed Mary was
still too ill to ride, and it was decided that she should remain a few
days until Mrs. Mason could come for her. With many tears Ida and
Jenny bade their young friend good-bye, but Rose, when asked to go up
and see her turned away disdainfully, amusing herself during their
absence by talking and laughing with George Moreland.

The room in which Mary lay, commanded a view of the yard and gateway;
and after Aunt Martha, Ida, and Jenny had left her, she arose, and
stealing to the window, looked out upon the company as they departed.
She could readily divine which was George Moreland, for Rose Lincoln's
shawl and satchel were thrown over his arm, while Rose herself walked
close to his elbow, apparently engrossing his whole attention. Once he
turned around, but fearful of being herself observed, Mary drew back
behind the window curtain, and thus lost a view of his face. He,
however, caught a glimpse of her, and asked if that was the room in
which Miss Howard was sick.

Rose affected not to hear him, and continued enumerating the many
trials which she had endured at school, and congratulating herself
upon her escape from the "horrid place." But for once George was not
an attentive listener. Notwithstanding his apparent indifference, he
was greatly disappointed at not seeing Mary. It was for this he had
gone to Mount Holyoke; and in spite of Rose's endeavors to make him
talk, he was unusually silent all the way, and when they at last
reached Chicopee, he highly offended the young lady by assisting Jenny
to alight instead of herself.

"I should like to know what you are thinking about," she said rather
pettishly, as she took his offered hand to say good-bye.

With a roguish look in his eye, George replied, "I've been thinking of
a young lady. Shall I tell you her name?"

Rose blushed, and looking interestingly embarrassed answered, that of
course 'twas no one whom she knew.

"Yes, 'tis," returned George, still holding her hand and as Aunt
Martha, who was jealously watching his movements from the window, just
then called out to him "to jump in, or he'd be left," he put his face
under