shall be better when I see Boston again."

Mr. Lincoln turned away to hide a tear, for he had no hope that she
would ever return. Towards nightfall of the next day they reached
Glenwood, and Rose, more fatigued than she was willing to acknowledge,
now that she was so determined to get well, was lifted from the
carriage and carried into the house. Mrs. Howland hastened forward to
receive her, and for once Rose forgot to notice whether the cut of her
cap was of this year's fashion or last.

"I am weary," she said. "Lay me where I can rest." And with the
grandmother leading the way, the father carried his child to the
chamber prepared for her with so much care.

"It's worse than I thought 'twas," said Mrs. Howland, returning to the
parlor below, where her daughter, after looking in vain for the big
rocking-chair, had thrown herself with a sigh upon the chintz-covered
lounge. "It's a deal worse than I thought 'twas. Hasn't she catched
cold, or been exposed some way?"

"Not in the least," returned Mrs. Lincoln, twirling the golden stopper
of her smelling bottle. "The foundation of her sickness was laid at
Mount Holyoke, and the whole faculty ought to be indicted for
manslaughter."

Jenny's clear, truthful eyes turned towards her mother, who frowned
darkly, and continued: "She was as well as any one until she went
there, and I consider it my duty to warn all parents against sending
their daughters to a place where neither health, manners, nor any
thing else is attended to, except religion and housework."

Jenny had not quite got over her childish habit of occasionally
setting her mother right on some points, and she could not forbear
saying that Dr. Kleber thought Rose injured herself by attending Mrs.
Russell's party.

"Dr. Kleber doesn't know any more about it than I do," returned her
mother. "He's always minding other folks' business, and so are you. I
guess you'd better go up stairs, and see if Rose doesn't want
something."

Jenny obeyed, and as she entered her sister's chamber, Rose lifted her
head languidly from her pillow, and pointing to a window, which had
been opened that she might breathe more freely, said, "Just listen;
don't you hear that horrid croaking?"

Jenny laughed aloud, for she knew Rose had heard "that horrid
croaking" move than a hundred times in Chicopee, but in Glenwood every
thing must necessarily assume a goblin form and sound. Seating herself
upon the foot of the bed, she said, "Why, th