days went on, and Miranda grew stronger and stronger; her will
seemed unassailable, and before long she could be moved into a chair by
the window, her dominant thought being to arrive at such a condition of
improvement that the doctor need not call more than once a week,
instead of daily; thereby diminishing the bill, that was mounting to
such a terrifying sum that it haunted her thoughts by day and dreams by
night.

Little by little hope stole back into Rebecca's young heart. Aunt Jane
began to "clear starch" her handkerchiefs and collars and purple muslin
dress, so that she might be ready to go to Brunswick at any moment when
the doctor pronounced Miranda well on the road to recovery. Everything
beautiful was to happen in Brunswick if she could be there by
August,--everything that heart could wish or imagination conceive, for
she was to be Miss Emily's very own visitor, and sit at table with
college professors and other great men.

At length the day dawned when the few clean, simple dresses were packed
in the hair trunk, together with her beloved coral necklace, her
cheesecloth graduating dress, her class pin, aunt Jane's lace cape, and
the one new hat, which she tried on every night before going to bed. It
was of white chip with a wreath of cheap white roses and green leaves,
and cost between two and three dollars, an unprecedented sum in
Rebecca's experience. The effect of its glories when worn with her
nightdress was dazzling enough, but if ever it appeared in conjunction
with the cheesecloth gown, Rebecca felt that even reverend professors
might regard it with respect. It is probable indeed that any
professorial gaze lucky enough to meet a pair of dark eyes shining
under that white rose garland would never have stopped at respect!

Then, when all was ready and Abijah Flagg at the door, came a telegram
from Hannah: "Come at once. Mother has had bad accident."

In less than an hour Rebecca was started on her way to Sunnybrook, her
heart palpitating with fear as to what might be awaiting her at her
journey's end.

Death, at all events, was not there to meet her; but something that
looked at first only too much like it. Her mother had been standing on
the haymow superintending some changes in the barn, had been seized
with giddiness, they thought, and slipped. The right knee was fractured
and the back strained and hurt, but she was conscious and in no
immediate danger, so Rebecca wrote, when she had a moment to s