ly her assumed duties. But Rhoda grew restless
and feverish, and finally became so much worse that we began seriously
to fear lest she had received some internal injury.

One afternoon I was sitting with her when the doctor came. He spoke
cheeringly, as usual; but when I went to the door with him, he said the
child had some mental trouble, the disposal of which would be more
effective than all his medicines, and that I must endeavor to ascertain
and remove it.

Without much difficulty I succeeded. She was haunted with the fear,
that, in her present useless condition, she would be sent away. I
convinced her that no one would do this during the absence of Uncle and
Aunt Bradburn, and that before their return she would probably be able
to resume her work.

"I know I'll sleep real good to-night," said Rhoda. "You see I'm awful
tired of going round so from one place to another. It's just been from
pillar to post ever since I can remember."

"Well," said I, "you may be sure that you will never be sent away from
this house for sickness nor for accident. So now set your poor little
heart at rest about it."

The blue eyes looked at me with an expression different from any I had
seen in them before. They were soft, pretty eyes, too, now that the hair
was suffered to lie around the face, instead of being stretched back as
tightly as possible. One good result had come from the wood-shed
catastrophe: the high comb had been shattered into irretrievable
fragments. I inly determined that none like it should ever take its
place.

* * * * *

Since Miss Stackpole said it was impossible for her to remain till the
return of Uncle and Aunt Bradburn, I cannot say that, under the
circumstances, we particularly desired her to prolong her visit. It may
be that grandmother had too little patience with her; certainly they two
were not congenial spirits. However, by means of taking her to see every
relative we had in the vicinity, we disposed of the time very
satisfactorily. She remained a few days longer than she had intended, so
that Dorothy, who is unapproachable in ironing, might do up her muslin
dresses.

"I have changed my mind about Hepsy," said she the night before she
left. "I think now it is Rhoda."

"What is Rhoda?" asked grandmother.

"That has taken the coral pin."

Grandmother compressed her lips, but her eyes spoke volumes.

"Miss Stackpole," said I, "it is true that Rhoda has not been h