re crowding them a
little. There was a finer, freer air up-town.

The Deans suited themselves, and Mr. Reed and Charles went with them.
Charles was now a tall, fair young fellow, rather grave from the shock
of the loss of his mother, intensified perhaps by his sympathy with Mrs.
Dean and Josie. It was a great comfort to keep together.

John looked up a new home; but Cleanthe, with her arms around Mrs.
Underhill's neck, said, in a broken sort of tone:--

"Oh, you must be somewhere near us! I don't feel as if I could live, if
I did not see you every day. I have no mother but you."

Twentieth Street seemed a long way up, to be sure. But there was an odd,
rather oldish house, with a two-story ell that seemed to have been added
as an after-thought. There was a stable and quite a garden. It had been
considered rather a country house in its inception.

Joe insisted that it was just the thing. He could have an office and a
library, and a sleeping-room overhead, without disturbing the family.

Mrs. Underhill declared there was twice too much room; and if any of the
other boys should marry and go away--

"There's only Ben. I am a fixture; and it will be years before Jim
reaches that tempting period. Oh, I think you need not worry!" comforted
the Doctor.

Hanny was glad to go with everybody else. They had one sad sweet time at
the Deans, talking over old days and the tea in the back-yard, when
there had been Nora and the pussy, and the one who was not. It was
rather sad to outgrow childhood. Ah, how merry they had been! What a
simple idyllic memory this was to be for all her later years! Mrs. Reed
always lived in First Street to her; and Tudie Dean used to go up and
down the street, a blessed, beautiful ghost. The little girl was quite
sure she would not be afraid to clasp her white hand, if she should meet
her wandering about those sacred precincts. She could not have put her
idea into Longfellow's beautiful lines; but it haunted her in the same
shape of remembrance.

"All houses wherein men have lived and died
Are haunted houses."

They went down to the Jasper house also. There had been a family of
children to tramp over the flower-beds and leave debris about. There
was no pretty striped awning, no wheeling-chair, no slim, picturesque
negro lad, and no ladies in light lawns sitting about. It looked
common-place.

"We can write Ichabod on it," said Charles, half regretfully.

Hanny asked Joe why they sh