fore provided
for. He would bring wood and water for us; the rest we must do, with
Fanny's help. We could dine in the kitchen, and put our beds in one
room; by shutting up the house in part, we should have less labor
to perform. We attempted to carry out his ideas, but Veronica was so
dreadfully in Fanny's way and mine, that we were obliged to entreat
her to resume her old role. As for Fanny, she was happy--working
like a beaver day and night. Father was much at home, and took an
extraordinary interest in the small details that Fanny carried out.

When Temperance heard of these arrangements, she came down with Abram
in their green and yellow wagon. Temperance drove the shaggy old white
horse, for Abram was intrusted with the care of a meal bag, in which
were fastened a cock and four hens. We should see, she said when she
let them out, whether we were to keep hens or not. Was Veronica to go
without new-laid eggs? Had he sold the cat, she sarcastically inquired
of father.

"Who is going to do your washing, girls?" she asked, taking off her
bonnet.

"We all do it."

"Now I shall die a-laughing!" But she contradicted herself by crying
heartily. "One day in every week, I tell _you_, I am coming; and Fanny
and I can do the washing in a jiffy."

"Sure," said Abram, "you can; the sass is in."

"Sass or no sass, I'm coming."

She made me laugh for the first time in a month. I was too tired
generally to be merry, with my endeavors to carry out father's wishes,
and keep up the old aspect of the house. When she left us we all felt
more cheerful. Aunt Merce wanted to come home, but Verry and I thought
she had better stay at Rosville. We could not deny it to ourselves,
that home was sadly altered, or that we were melancholy; and though
we never needed her more, we begged her not to come. Happily father's
zeal soon died away. A boy was hired, and as there was no out-of-doors
work for him to do, he relieved Fanny, who in her turn relieved
me. Finding time to look into myself, I perceived a change in my
estimation of father; a vague impression of weakness in him troubled
me. I also discovered that I had lost my atmosphere. My life was
coarse, hard, colorless! I lived in an insignificant country
village; I was poor. My theories had failed; my practice was like my
moods--variable. But I concluded that if _to-day_ would go on without
bestowing upon me sharp pains, depriving me of sleep, mutilating me
with an accident, or sending