she hasn't been in the city all summer.
The cholera has been just awful! I don't see how you had the courage to
stay."

"My sons were there." The tears came to Mrs. Underhill's eyes. "And
though they were spared, they often needed me. No one really can know
what it was, unless they have been through it. Joe came home one night
so worn out that he stayed in bed all the next day. I just prayed every
moment; I felt as if I'd never prayed before. And there was all of
John's trouble. Yes; many a one has been called upon to part with their
nearest and dearest."

John Underhill's wife had lost both father and mother, within
twenty-four hours of each other. Then Cleanthe's little baby had been
born dead; and they had to move her to Mother Underhill's, more dead
than alive; but good care had at last restored her. The old Archer
cousins in Henry Street had gone; and many another among friends and
relatives.

They did not tell Hanny until she came home who had gone out of the
neighbourhood. Mrs. Reed had been among the first. She was getting ready
to go away with Charles, when the summons came. But the greatest sorrow
of all to her was the loss of Tudie Dean. She had been rather drooping
for several days; and one night Doctor Joe had been summoned, but in
vain. Two of the prettiest of the little Jewish children who had come to
the Whitney house were buried on the same day.

Cleanthe was still at home, as she called her mother-in-law's house. She
was very pale and wan, and just hugged Hanny to her heart, and cried
over her.

Charlie Reed sorrowed deeply for his mother.

"I don't just know how it came about," he said tremulously; "but we were
getting to be such friends; she took such a real interest in my studies;
and she seemed to want father to be happy in the things he liked. He's
most broken-hearted over it; and the house seems dreadful! Cousin Jane
advises father to break up and board; I think she's kind of nervous, and
wants a change. Oh, what a terrible time it has been; I am glad you
were away. And poor little Tudie Dean!"

They both cried over her. And when she went in to see Josie, she was
almost heart-broken; for Josie looked so strange and grown-up, and was
so grave.

Mrs. Dean pressed her to her heart.

"Thank God, my little dear," she exclaimed, "that your mother hasn't to
sorrow over any loss. Your brother has been heroic; and there was one
time when we were all afraid. He was so dead-tired that I know he