“Well enough—­why do you ask?” answered John.

“Because,” said his father, “I have to-day received a letter which makes it necessary for one of us to be there the 15th, and as you are fond of traveling, I had rather you would go.  You had better start immediately—­say to-morrow.”

John Jr. started from his chair.  To-morrow she left her home—­the 15th she sailed.  He might see her again, though at a distance, for she should never know he followed her!  Since that night in Frankfort he had not looked upon her face, but he had kept his promise, returning to her everything—­everything except a withered rose-bud, which years before, when but a boy, he had twined among the heavy braids of her hair, and which she had given back to him, playfully fastening it in the button-hole of his roundabout!  How well he remembered that day.  She was a little romping girl, teasing him unmercifully about his flat feet and big hands, chiding him for his negro slang, as she termed his favorite expressions, and with whatever else she did, weaving her image into his heart’s best and noblest affections, until he seemed to live only for her, But now ’twas changed—­terribly changed.  She was no longer “his Nellie,” the Nellie of his boyhood’s love; and with a muttered curse and a tear, large, round, and hot, such as only John Jr. could shed, he sent her back every memento of the past, all save that rose-bud, with which he could not part, it seemed so like his early hopes—­withered and dead.

Nellie was alone, preparing for her journey, when the box containing the treasures was handed her.  Again and again she examined to see if there were not one farewell word, but there was nothing save, “Here endeth the first lesson!” followed by two exclamation points, which John Jr. had dashed off at random.  Every article seemed familiar to her as she looked them over, and everything was there but one—­she missed the rose-bud—­and she wondered at the omission for she knew he had it in his possession.  He had told her so not three months before.  Why, then, did he not return it?  Was it a lingering affection for her which prompted the detention?  Perhaps so, and down in Nellie’s heart was one warm, bright spot, the memory of that bud, which grew green and fresh again, as on the day when first it was torn from its parent stem.

When it was first known at Maple Grove, that Nellie was going to Europe, Mrs. Livingstone, who saw in the future the full consummation of her plans, proposed that Mabel should spend the period of Nellie’s absence with her.  But to this Mr. Douglass would not consent.

“He could not part with both his daughters,” he said, and Mabel decided to remain, stipulating that ’Lena, of whom she was very fond, should pass a portion of the time with her.

“All the time, if she chooses,” said Mr. Douglass, who also liked ’Lena, while Nellie, who was present, immediately proposed that she should take music lessons of Monsieur Du Pont, who had recently come to the city, and who was said to be a superior teacher.  “She is fond of music,” said she, “and has always wanted to learn, but that aunt of hers never seemed willing; and this will be a good opportunity, for she can use my piano all the time if she chooses.”