iods of my absence from home traveled to
the sea-side to watch the progress of my recovery as often as his
professional engagements would permit, now kept away like my mother.
Even Uncle George, who had never been allowed a holiday to come and see
me, but who had hitherto often written and begged me to write to him,
broke off our correspondence.

I was naturally perplexed and amazed by these changes, and persecuted
my aunt to tell me the reason of them. At first she tried to put me off
with excuses; then she admitted that there was trouble in our house; and
finally she confessed that the trouble was caused by the illness of
my sister. When I inquired what that illness was, my aunt said it was
useless to attempt to explain it to me. I next applied to the servants.
One of them was less cautious than my aunt, and answered my question,
but in terms that I could not comprehend. After much explanation, I was
made to understand that "something was growing on my sister's neck that
would spoil her beauty forever, and perhaps kill her, if it could not be
got rid of." How well I remember the shudder of horror that ran through
me at the vague idea of this deadly "something"! A fearful, awe-struck
curiosity to see what Caroline's illness was with my own eyes troubled
my inmost heart, and I begged to be allowed to go home and help to nurse
her. The request was, it is almost needless to say, refused.

Weeks passed away, and still I heard nothing, except that my sister
continued to be ill. One day I privately wrote a letter to Uncle George,
asking him, in my childish way, to come and tell me about Caroline's
illness.

I knew where the post-office was, and slipped out in the morning
unobserved and dropped my letter in the box. I stole home again by the
garden, and climbed in at the window of a back parlor on the ground
floor. The room above was my aunt's bedchamber, and the moment I was
inside the house I heard moans and loud convulsive sobs proceeding from
it. My aunt was a singularly quiet, composed woman. I could not
imagine that the loud sobbing and moaning came from her, and I ran
down terrified into the kitchen to ask the servants who was crying so
violently in my aunt's room.

I found the housemaid and the cook talking together in whispers with
serious faces. They started when they saw me as if I had been a grown-up
master who had caught them neglecting their work.

"He's too young to feel it much," I heard one say to the ot