onstitution. She never goes out in
winter-time without her furs."

"Furs for the neck and hands, and lasting shoes and thin cotton
stockings for the feet!"

"Thick-soled boots," said Mrs. Walton, quickly.

"There are thick-soled boots."

And the old gentleman thrust out both of his feet, well clad in heavy
calfskin.

Mrs. Walton could not keep from laughing, as the image of her daughter's
feet, thus encased, presented itself to her mind.

"Perhaps," said Uncle Thomas, just a little captiously, "Lizzy has a
stronger constitution than I have, and can bear a great deal more. For
my part, I would almost as lief take a small dose of poison as go out,
on a day like this, with nothing on my feet but thin cotton stockings
and lasting shoes."

"Boots," interposed Mrs. Walton.

"I call them boots," said the old gentleman, glancing down again at his
stout double-soled calfskins.

But it was of no avail that Uncle Thomas entered his protest against
thin shoes, when, in the estimation of city ladies, they were "thick."
And so, in due time, he saw his error and gave up the argument.

When Lizzy came down from her room, her colour was still high--much
higher than usual, and her voice, as she spoke, was a very little
veiled. But she was in fine spirits, and talked away merrily. Uncle
Thomas did not, however, fail to observe that every little while she
cleared her throat with a low _h-h-em_; and he knew that this was
occasioned by an increased secretion of mucus by the lining membrane of
the throat, consequent upon slight inflammation. The cause he attributed
to thin shoes and wet feet; and he was not far wrong. The warm boa and
muff were not sufficient safeguards for the throat when the feet were
exposed to cold and wet.

That evening, at tea-time, Mr. Walton observed that Lizzy eat scarcely
any thing, and that her face was a little pale. He also noted an
expression that indicated either mental or bodily suffering--not
severe, but enough to make itself visible.

"Are you not well?" he asked.

"Oh yes, very well," was the quick reply.

"You are fatigued, then?"

"A little."

"Go early to bed. A night's sleep will restore all."

Mr. Walton said this, rather because he hoped than believed that it
would be so.

"Oh yes. A night's rest is all I want," replied Lizzy.

But she erred in this.

"Where is Lizzy?" asked Mr. Walton, on meeting his sister-in-law at the
breakfast-table on the next morning. The face of the