for a visit to Trenton, and
though she was rarely separated from her darling, this time she left her
behind. She did not return as soon as she expected, on account of a
feverish illness which would be over in a few days, her friends
insisted, but instead developed into the scourge of smallpox, the
treatment of which was not well understood at that time, and though she
was healthy ordinarily, the bleeding so reduced her strength that she
sank rapidly and in a week had followed her husband.

Madam Wetherill was cut to the very heart by the sad incident, for she
loved Bessy as if she had been her own daughter, and she was tenderly
attached to baby Primrose, who was too little to realize all she had
lost.

When Friend Henry preferred his claim to his brother's child, he was met
by some very decided opposition. In the first place the child had been
christened in the church, and was, according to her mother's wishes, to
be left in Madam Wetherill's charge for six months every year and be
instructed in the tenets of her own church, and to remain perfectly free
to make her choice when she was eighteen. If her mother's wishes could
not be carried out, her fortune was to revert to Madam Wetherill, and
she would inherit only what her father bequeathed her.

"I cannot believe my brother was knowing to this nefarious scheme!"
cried Friend Henry in a temper. "And I always thought Primrose a most
ungodly name. It was his wish she should become a Friend."

"And if your son marries among the world's people and leaves the faith
what will you do?" asked Madam Wetherill.

"I should disown him," was the hasty reply.

"Then Bessy had a right to disown her child if she left the faith. See
how unreasonable you are, Friend Henry, and how little true love is in
your mind. Now if you have any regard for the little child do not let us
quite dismember her after the fashion of Solomon's judgment. You may
have her next summer, and I in the winter. I warn you, if you do not
agree, I shall fight to the end. I have no children of my own to deprive
if I go on lawing, and my purse will surely hold out as long as yours."

That was true enough; longer, he knew. So, after a while, he assented
ungraciously, and the matter was adjusted.

But it was not a happy omen that the child's name should cause one
quarrel and the possession of her another. She herself was bright and
joyous, with much of her mother's merry nature and her clear, frank,
beguiling b