which I
could not help.

These thoughts struck and stung me like so many hornets. Crying,
"Mother! mother!" I sprang from my bed, and fell on my knees beside it.
I did not suppose it would do much good for me to pray; but I said over
and over, if only to stop myself from thinking, "O God, help me! God
have mercy on me!" as fast as I could, till the town clock struck five,
and I knew that I must begin to dress, and compose myself, if I would
appear as usual at six o'clock at the breakfast-table.

My French grammar, was, as usual, set up beside my looking-glass. As
usual, I examined myself aloud in one of the exercises, while I went
through my toilet. If I did make some mistakes it was no matter. I made
so much haste, that I had time before breakfast to correct some of the
compositions which I had brought with me from school. The rest, as I
often did when hurried, I turned over while I tried to eat my bread and
milk. This did not encourage conversation. During the meal, I was only
asked how my head was, and answered only that it was better. I had taken
care not to shed a tear, so that my eyes were not swollen; and as I had
eaten nothing since the morning of the day before, nobody could be
surprised to see me pale.

Mrs. Johnson left her seat, too, almost as soon as I took mine. She was
in a great bustle, getting her covered wagon under way, and stocked with
eggs, butter, cheese, and green vegetables for her weekly trip to the
nearest market-town. She was, however, sufficiently mindful of her
nephew's lessons to regret that she must leave me poorly when he would
not be there to cheer me up, and to tell me to choose what I liked best
for my dinner while she was gone.

I chose a boiled chicken and rice. It was what my mother used to like
best to have me eat when I was not well. I often rebelled against it
when a child; but now I sought by means of it to soothe myself with the
fancy that I was still under her direction.

Mrs. Johnson also offered to do for me what I forgot to ask of her,--to
look in at the post-office and see if there was not a letter there for
me from my only sister. Fanny, for once, had sent me none the week
before. Mrs. Johnson went to town, and I to school.

I worked and worried through the lessons,--how, I never knew; but I dare
say the children were forbearing; children are apt to be when one is
not well. I came home and looked at the chicken and rice. But that would
not do. They _would_ have mad