ite. No sooner,
however, was the house quiet and deserted, than he rang the bell, and
sent for a sleigh, hobbling out with the assistance of a stick and the
servant's arm. For the information of that lingering and curious
functionary, he ordered the driver to go to the Club, which address,
however, was altered after proceeding a short distance.

CHAPTER XII.

THE LAKE SHORE ROAD.

But all that I care for,
And all that I know,
Is that, without wherefore,
I worship thee so.
--Lord Lytton.

"I suppose, Bluebell, you keep all your fine spirits for company?" said
Miss Opie, tauntingly; and, indeed, she had some reason to be aggrieved.
Few things are more trying than living with a person in the persistent
enjoyment of the blues; and the old, saddened by failing health and the
memory of heavy sorrows, are apt to look upon gloom in youth as
entrenching on their own prescriptive rights.

Bluebell was always now taking long, aimless walks, bringing home neither
news nor gossip, and then sitting silent, absorbed in her own thoughts,
or else feverishly expectant; while each evening she sank into deeper
despondency after the day's disappointment.

"Spirits can't be made to order," answered she, shortly. "I have got
nothing to talk about."

"I am afraid you are ill, my dear," said Mrs. Leigh; "outgrowing your
strength, perhaps. You are such a great girl, Bluebell--so different to
me; and you scarcely touched the baked mutton at dinner, which was a
little frozen and red yesterday, but so nice to-day."

Bluebell shivered. She was not at a very critical age, but the culinary
triumphs of the "general servant" made her practice a good deal of
enforced abstinence since she had been accustomed to properly prepared
cookery at "The Maples."

"People who do nothing all day can't expect to be hungry," said Miss
Opie, sententiously. "If a man will not work neither may he eat."

"Then it is all right," retorted Bluebell, "as it seems I do neither."

"Not work!" cried Mrs. Leigh. "Why she has earned already more than I
ever did in my life, and brought me ten dollars to get a dress with, only
I shan't, for I shall keep it for her. I must say, Aunt Jane, you are
always blaming the child; and, if her mother is satisfied, I think you
may be."

Aunt Jane was silenced, but she wondered what Bluebell could do that her
shortsighted mother would not be satisfied with. Meantime the object of
the discussion