But the part
of the castle in which Laura lived was no ruin. The thick walls kept it
cool in summer and warm in winter, and made nice deep seats for the
windows, which were hung with heavy folds of crimson silk. The walls
were covered with superb paintings, the wide rooms were beautiful with
all manner of comforts and luxuries. Low divans of rich and soft
material, ottomans and rugs of Persian and Turkish wool, statues and
statuettes of marble, graceful forms, filled the corners and the niches.
Birds of many colors sang in golden cages, and curious cuckoo-clocks
chimed the hours. Laura's mamma was a fine musician, and her harp and
piano were always ready to yield sweet tones. The library shelves held
books of all kinds and colors; and the cabinets of richly carved wood,
before the glass doors of which Laura often stood, contained rare
shells, minerals, stuffed birds and insects, and strange foreign things
that a child could only wonder about.

Of all places in which to play "hide-and-seek," this castle was the
best--it had so many nooks and corners, such little cosy turns in the
stairs, such odd cupboards, such doors in strange places, so many quaint
pieces of furniture to hide behind--and yet Laura never played
hide-and-seek.

There was a delicious garden, too, full of fragrant bushes and arbors
and rustic seats, and two fountains rained liquid diamonds into marble
basins. But Laura did not play in the garden.

The truth is, Laura was a petted, spoiled, wayward little creature,
always depending upon others for entertainment, too lazy to amuse
herself, and much less inclined to study or to find happiness in being
useful.

She had nurses and governesses. She had toys and trinkets, and the
latter were of about as much service as the former. Her mother had
always loved her fondly, but even she began to see that something was
amiss with Laura, and to think her little child needed something she
could not buy for her. Absorbed in her books, her music, and her
embroidery, Laura's mother was constantly occupied; but, strange to say,
she seemed to forget that Laura, too, might need occupation. One day
Laura's mamma went alone on an excursion into the woods. She had seemed
very much distressed. Her maid noticed that she had been intently
regarding Laura for several days, and had spoken of the child's
unhappiness.

When she returned from her excursion with tearful eyes, and bade Laura
be ready for a little journey on the f