ne side of him, and Lisa, looking tranquil and
thoroughly glad and grateful, on the other, and Joe, just the happiest
darkey in the world, sat at his feet, ready to take charge of all and
everything.

They sailed and they sailed, away from the city and its many roofs, from
the factory chimneys and the steeples, from the cloud of smoke which
hung between the sky and house-tops, until they came to the hills and
dales of pasture-lands and villages. Then they landed, and were whirled
away in the cars, and Phil enjoyed it all, even the fatigue which made
him sleep; and Joe carried him about as if he were a baby.

It was quite dark when, after a drive over a rather rough road, they
reached the lake-side cottage which was Miss Schuyler's summer home, and
Phil was glad to be put in bed, for the old pain had begun again.

When he opened his eyes the next morning, it was with a strange feeling
of wonder at his new surroundings. Birds were twittering out-of-doors,
and there was a soft lapping of water on the shore. The green boughs of
a cherry tree almost brushed against the window-panes. He was no longer
in his old garret room, but in a pretty apartment, with bunches of
rosebuds on the walls, and scent-bottles on the toilet-table, and muslin
curtains, and a bright carpet, and pretty book-shelves, and brackets,
and lovely child-faces in the engravings; and on a broad table was a
little easel, and a paint-box, and drawing-paper; and here too was his
old box with the violin strings.

"Oh," said Phil, softly, "I wonder if heaven is any better than this!"

He had closed his eyes as he said it, and went over his usual morning
prayer of thankfulness; and when he opened his eyes, there was Lisa with
his breakfast-tray--poached eggs and toast, and a goblet of milk.

"Lisa, Lisa, is not this too nice for anything?" asked Phil.

"Yes, indeed, dear, it is nice. Miss Schuyler says you must hurry and
get strong, so that you can make the acquaintance of the hens that laid
these eggs for you, and the cow whose milk is to do you so much good."

"What is the cow's name, Lisa?"

"I don't know," said Lisa.

"It is Daisy," said Miss Schuyler, coming in to say good-morning.
"She's a lovely little Alderney, and her milk is like cream. Oh, you
will soon be strong enough to row my boat for me."

"A boat! Have you a boat?"

"Yes, and you are going out on the lake in her this very morning."

"It is just too much happiness, Miss Schuyler."