ants' simple lays?"

As the autumn deepened into winter, bringing cold, damp days, and
chilling, keen winds, little Amy's strength seemed steadily to
decrease, notwithstanding all the care taken to reinforce it by the
most nourishing diet that money could command. Every delicacy that
could tempt her appetite, every kind of nourishment that could
strengthen her system, was tried, without success. Dr. Eastwood had
been right in his augury, that her seeming improvement had been only
temporary, and that the delicately-organized constitution was not
meant for the wear and tear of long life. So evident at last did the
decline become, that a consultation was held as to whether it would
not be advisable to remove her for the winter to a warmer climate;
but the more experienced physicians were decidedly of opinion that
taking her away from her home and family would be a needless cruelty,
and that, since no human skill could now arrest the disease, it was
better to leave the little patient to live, as long as she might,
surrounded by the comforts and the kind nursing at home. This opinion
was not fully communicated to her parents, but they instinctively
felt, what was really the case, that their child was only left in
their home because she must ere long be removed from it for ever.

Lucy had long taught herself to think of such an issue as at least a
probability; but her cousins by no means realized the advanced state
of Amy's disease. They persuaded themselves that, with care, she would
"get over" her delicacy, and they would not even think of the
possibility of a fatal termination of it. One cause of this was
probably the circumstance that the winter gaieties had commenced, and
that invitations, parties, and dress were now uppermost in their
minds. Had they been convinced that their little sister was dying,
they could hardly have had the heart to join in their usual round of
gaiety; but they easily persuaded themselves of the contrary, and felt
no scruples about going on as usual.

Stella, who had shot up almost to womanly height within the last year,
had assumed the dress and appearance of a "young lady," as
distinguished from a little girl. The foretaste of gay life she had
had at the seaside had made her impatient to plunge into it at once,
and she besieged her parents with entreaties that she might be allowed
to "come out" that winter. She succeeded so far with her father, who
could seldom deny her anything, as to obt