o tears at so undesirable a prospect, that she should
pity herself and her luckless fate, and that, when fully realizing the
depths of loneliness into which she was to be precipitated for five
long, weary months, she should jump at the dismal conclusion that her
doll was stuffed with the most inferior variety of saw-dust and wish
with lachrymose sincerity that she were dead and buried and out of this
world of sorrow. Papa might then wish that he had been more considerate.
Perhaps; but at that particular moment he was contemplatively
assimilating his fish, and that process admitted of no consideration
whatever beyond that of the fish itself. So when his daughter raised her
tearful eyes to his saffron countenance across the board she found no
signs in it of the sympathy she felt so much need of. What could she
expect, anyway? Dr. Nevercure had been consulted, and this time felt
that something desperate must be done. His patient had persistently
refused to pronounce himself in any degree benefited by the long course
of physic which he had prescribed, and in fact had become an elephant
upon his professional hands; and thus, as a last resort, he had
recommended an entire change of air and perfect quiet, with a periodical
harmless dose for the sake of appearances. Nevercure must be obeyed; the
patient himself, since it seemed to be his delight to fancy himself an
invalid, must naturally be supposed to find a pleasure in the remedies
for his sufferings, and therefore evinced no regret whatever at the
leaden prospects, but, on the contrary, made a most exasperating
exhibition of saintly resignation, very galling to the young lady, who
considered herself the only one really injured.

"And when must we go?" she asked, continuing a series of questions which
her sudden burst of tears had interrupted.

"Friday morning," replied Mr. Moreley curtly.

"Friday morning! And this is Tuesday night! Why, papa, I--"

"Mabel, I said Friday morning. My arrangements are made, and I will not
hear another word about it."

And he didn't. Mabel left the table as soon as decorum would permit, and
betook herself up-stairs to her own sanctum to nurse her grief in
solitude.

She sat long by the open window, pondering over her hapless lot, her
chin upon her hand, her dark eyes far away in thought,--sad thought,
judging from their expression,--the wind playing in her light, wavy
hair, her full red lips parted slightly, showing the interest which he