her illness, so that on the following morning when she attempted to rise, she found herself seriously ill.  During the hours in which she was alone that day, she had ample time for reflection, and before night she wrote another letter to Billy, in which she told him how impossible it was for her to be the wife of one whom she had always loved as an own, and dear brother.  This letter caused Mary so much effort, and so many bitter tears, that for several days she continued worse, and at last gave up all hope of being present at the examination.

“Oh it’s too bad,” said Ida, “for I do want you to see Cousin George, and I know he’ll be disappointed too, for I never saw any thing like the interest he seems to take in you.”

A few days afterwards as Mary was lying alone, thinking of Billy, and wondering if she had done right in writing to him as she did, Jenny came rushing in wild with delight.

Her father was down stairs, together with Ida’s father George, and Aunt Martha.  “Most the first thing I did,” said she, “was to inquire after Billy Bender!  I guess Aunt Martha was shocked, for she looked so queer.  George laughed, and Mr. Selden said he was doing well, and was one of the finest young men in Boston.  But why don’t you ask about George?  I heard him talking about you to Rose, just as I left the parlor.”

Mary felt sure that any information of her which Rose might give would not be very complimentary, and she thought right; for when Rose was questioned concerning “Miss Howard,” she at first affected her ignorance of such a person; and then when George explained himself more definitely, she said, “Oh, that girl!  I’m sure I don’t know much about her, except that she’s a charity scholar, or something of that kind.”

At the words “charity scholar,” there was a peculiar smile on George’s face; but he continued talking, saying, “that if that were the case, she ought to be very studious and he presumed she was.”

“As nearly as I can judge of her,” returned Rose, “she is not remarkable for brilliant talents; but,” she added, as she met Ida’s eye, “she has a certain way of showing off, and perhaps I am mistaken with regard to her.”

Very different from this was the description given of her by Ida, who now came to her cousin’s side, extolling Mary highly, and lamenting the illness which would prevent George from seeing her.  Aunt Martha, also, spoke a word in Mary’s favor, at the same time endeavoring to stop the unkind remarks of Rose, whom she thoroughly disliked, and who she feared was becoming too much of a favorite with George.  Rose was not only very handsome, but she also possessed a peculiar faculty of making herself agreeable whenever she chose, and in Boston she was quite a favorite with a certain class of young men.  It was for George Moreland, however, that her prettiest and most coquettish airs were practised.  He was the object which she would secure; and when she heard Mary Howard