now."

CHAPTER X.

THE LITTLE BLACK TRUNK.

When Spring came, spirits and strength began to flag. Everything without
was so alluring, that indoors and duties grew dreadfully monotonous and
tiresome. Bea found that her sweeping and dusting fell terribly behind,
because she spent so much time sitting in the window-sills, and standing
in the doors, where the sunshine was so temptingly clear and warm, and
from where the yard and trees, so rapidly budding out, could be enjoyed.
Olive dreaded her close dark counting-room, but said little about it, in
the belief that complaining wouldn't help. Ernestine's four scholars
lessened to two, and as the days grew warmer she spent much of the time
on the lounge, looking listless, and betraying little interest in
anything.

Kittie and Kat, found that snatching moments from work, to take a race
down the yard, or gather some particular cluster of fresh young
blossoms, gave dish-water a chance to cool; or dust, left ready for
taking up, to blow back to all corners of the room. Meals began to fall
behind, but everybody was too warm and listless to eat much, or mind the
tardiness. In short, everybody had the spring fever, but such ordinary
complaint was not noticed, until, as the heat grew more debilitating,
Bea said to her mother one evening, as they stood in the door, looking
out into the soft still moonlight that lay so purely over the fresh
early grass and blossoms:--"Mama, seems to me Ernestine is not well."

Bea could not understand why her mother should start so, at such a
slight intimation, or why her face should look so anxious as she turned
it.

"Why, dear?"

"She lies down so much; it may be because the weather has turned warm so
suddenly, but seems to me, she is so pale and quiet, and it is something
so unusual, that I couldn't help but notice it; but then, may be, it's
nothing after all."

"Only the weather, I fancy," answered Mrs. Dering; but Bea saw that she
looked uneasy, and that all that evening she watched Ernestine, who lay
on the lounge, more lively than she had been for several days, with a
sparkling light in her eyes, and a rich color in her face, that made her
more beautiful than mother or sisters had ever seen her before. Bea
watched her mother with some anxiety and no little curiosity. How sad
and troubled her eyes looked, as they rested on Ernestine's radiant
face, while every now and then a tremble seized her lips, even while she
smiled at the