Anne giggled still harder, and tossed her head:  “Then it’s to jail I’ll have to go; for I don’t know.”

“Dear me,” said Lillie, with an air of edifying candor, “what a fuss they make!  Set down my age ‘twenty-seven,’ John,” she added.

Grace started, and looked at John; he met her eye, and blushed to the roots of his hair.

“Why, what’s the matter?” said Lillie, “are you embarrassed at telling your age?”

“Oh, nothing!” said John, writing down the numbers hastily; and then, finding a sudden occasion to give directions in the garden, he darted out.  “It’s so silly to be ashamed of our age!” said Lillie, as the census-taker withdrew.

“Of course,” said Grace; and she had the humanity never to allude to the subject with her brother.

CHAPTER X.

CHANGES.

SCENE.—­A chamber at the Seymour House.  Little discovered weeping.  John rushing in with empressement.

“Lillie, you shall tell me what ails you.”

“Nothing ails me, John.”

“Yes, there does; you were crying when I came in.”

“Oh, well, that’s nothing!”

“Oh, but it is a great deal!  What is the matter?  I can see that you are not happy.”

“Oh, pshaw, John!  I am as happy as I ought to be, I dare say; there isn’t much the matter with me, only a little blue, and I don’t feel quite strong.”

“You don’t feel strong!  I’ve noticed it, Lillie.”

“Well, you see, John, the fact is, that I never have got through this month without going to the sea-side.  Mamma always took me.  The doctors told her that my constitution was such that I couldn’t get along without it; but I dare say I shall do well enough in time, you know.”

“But, Lillie,” said John, “if you do need sea-air, you must go.  I can’t leave my business; that’s the trouble.”

“Oh, no, John! don’t think of it.  I ought to make an effort to get along.  You see, it’s very foolish in me, but places affect my spirits so.  It’s perfectly absurd how I am affected.”

“Well, Lillie, I hope this place doesn’t affect you unpleasantly,” said John.

“It’s a nice, darling place, John, and it’s very silly in me; but it is a fact that this house somehow has a depressing effect on my spirits.  You know it’s not like the houses I’ve been used to.  It has a sort of old look; and I can’t help feeling that it puts me in mind of those who are dead and gone; and then I think I shall be dead and gone too, some day, and it makes me cry so.  Isn’t it silly of me, John?”

“Poor little pussy!” said John.

“You see, John, our rooms are lovely; but they aren’t modern and cheerful, like those I’ve been accustomed to.  They make me feel pensive and sad all the time; but I’m trying to get over it.”

“Why, Lillie!” said John, “would you like the rooms refurnished?  It can easily be done if you wish it.”