ain leave to go to as many
private parties as she could, without interfering with her studies.
But of course, with a limit so indefinite, the bounds were often
overstepped. Her love of gaiety only grew with the indulgence of the
taste, and she felt really unhappy when she had to see her sisters go
to a party without her.

But late hours and excitement very soon affected a constitution which
had never before been so severely tried; and as she would conceal any
indisposition when she thought it might keep her at home, the
consequences sometimes became serious. At last, her rashness in going
out, thinly dressed, one cold winter evening, when she was already
suffering from a slight cold, brought on a severe attack of
inflammation of the lungs, by which she was prostrated for several
weeks, and which left behind a slight cough. This, the doctor warned
her, would require the utmost care, to prevent its growing into what
might prove very serious indeed.

Lucy, of course, owing to her deep mourning, and the school-work which
engrossed her mind and time, had had no temptation to mingle in any of
her cousins' amusements, though, had it been otherwise, she could not
conscientiously have frequented scenes of amusement which she had been
taught by her father to consider unworthy of those who have made up
their minds to leave all and follow Christ. For the same reason, she
had refused Stella's urgent solicitations to accompany her in
occasional visits to the opera and theatre, places of which her father
had often told her the spiritual atmosphere was entirely foreign to
that in which Christians should seek ever to dwell. Though Stella's
glowing descriptions sometimes excited the longing to see the magic
sights and hear the magnificent music of which they told, she felt
that she could not sincerely pray, "Lead us not into temptation," if
she wilfully went into it; nor could she from the heart have asked her
Saviour's blessing on the evening's amusement.

During the general engrossment of the household with Stella's alarming
attack, Amy's rapid sinking of strength was not for some time much
noticed, except by Lucy, who felt, in spite of her hopes, that the end
was drawing near.

Lucy had been forbidden to speak to her little cousin about death, as
if the avoidance of the thought could have anything to do with
delaying the event; but happily there was no need for doing so, since
her little heart was evidently resting on her Saviour