at her she only put her head down
upon the rose-colored shawl and began to cry. Then, regardless of
consequences, Maude raised herself upon her elbow, and laying her face
on Jerrie's head began herself to cry piteously.

'Jerrie, Jerrie,' she sobbed, 'you think I am going to die, I know you
do, and so does everybody, but I am not; I cannot die when there is so
much to live for, and my home is so beautiful, and I love everybody so
much, and--'

Terrified beyond measure, Jerrie put her hand over Maude's mouth and
said, almost sharply:

'If you want to live you must not talk. Be careful and you will get
well; the doctor says so.'

But Jerrie's tears belied her words when she saw the palor in Maude's
face as she sank back upon her pillow exhausted, while, with her
handkerchief she wiped a faint coloring of blood from her lips.

'I have stayed too long,' Jerrie said, as she arose from her low seat by
the couch. Then Maude spoke again in a whisper and said:

'Send Harold soon.'

'I will,' Jerrie replied, and kissing the death-like face again she went
softly from the room, thinking to herself, as she descended the stairs,
'I believe I could give Harold to her now.'

CHAPTER XXXIV.

UNDER THE PINES WITH TOM.

Jerrie found Tom just where she had left him, on the piazza outside,
waiting for her, it would seem, for the moment she appeared he arose,
and going with her down the steps walked by her side along the avenue
toward the point where she would turn aside into the road which led to
the cottage.

'How did you find Maude!' he asked.

'Weaker than I supposed,' Jerrie replied, 'and so tired. Oh, Tom, I know
she hurt herself worrying about my room as she did, and if she dies I
shall never like it again.'

'Nonsense,' Tom answered, carelessly. 'Maude won't die. She's got the
Tracy constitution, which nothing can kill. Don't fret about your room.
Maude liked being there. Nothing could keep her away. And don't flatter
yourself that it was all love for you which took her there so much, for
it wasn't. She is just mashed with Harold, while he--well, what can a
young man do when a pretty girl--and Mamie is pretty--when she gushes at
him all the time? It is a regular flirtation, and everybody knows about
it except mother and the Gov.'

'Who is the Gov.?' Jerry asked, sharply.

'Why, you Vassars must be very innocent,' Tom replied, with a laugh,
'not to know that Gov. is one's respected sire: the old man, some