The parlor was of course entered and searched, and though no missing glove was found, the company of Henry Lincoln was thus secured.  Have my readers never seen a Henry Lincoln, or an Ella Campbell?

CHAPTER XXIV.

A CHANGE OF OPINION.

“Oh, mother won’t you take this pillow from my head, and put another blanket on my feet, and fix the fire, and give me some water, or something?  Oh, dear, dear!—­” groaned poor Rose Lincoln, as with aching head and lungs, she did penance for her imprudence in crossing the wet, slippery street in thin slippers and silken hose.

Mrs. Lincoln, who knew nothing of this exposure, loudly lamented the extreme delicacy of her daughter’s constitution, imputing it wholly to Mount Holyoke discipline, and wishing, as she had often done before, that “she’d been wise and kept her at home.”  Jenny would have wished so, too, if by this means Rose’s illness could have been avoided, for it was not a very agreeable task to stay in that close sick room, listening to the complaints of her fault-finding sister, who tossed and turned and fretted, from morning until night, sometimes wishing herself dead, and then crying because she “wanted something, and didn’t know what.”

“Oh, dear,” said she, one evening several days after the commencement of her illness, “how provoking to be obliged to lie here moping with the dullest of all dull company, when there’s Mrs. Russell’s party next week, and I’ve such a lovely dress to wear.  Why ain’t I as strong and healthy as you? though I wouldn’t be so fat for any thing.”

Jenny knew that whatever answer she could make would not be the right one, so she said nothing, and after a moment Rose again, spoke.

“I’ll go to that party sick or well.  I wouldn’t miss of it for any thing.”

This time Jenny looked up in surprise, asking why her sister was so particularly anxious to attend the party.

“Because,” returned Rose, “Mary Howard will be there, and you know as well as I how awkward she’ll appear,—­never was in any kind of society in her life.”

“I don’t see what inducement that can be for you to expose your health,” said Jenny, and Rose continued:  “I want to see Ida mortified once, for she might know better than to bring a green, country girl here, setting her up as something wonderful, and expecting every body to believe it just because Miss Selden said so.  Didn’t you tell me there was some one continually going to inquire after Mary?”

“Yes,” answered Jenny; whereupon Rose got very angry, complaining that no one called upon her except that little simpleton Ella, who only came, when she thought there was a chance of seeing Henry!

“Seems to me you’ve changed your mind with regard to Ella,” said Jenny.

“No I hain’t either,” answered Rose, “I always thought her silly, and now she hangs round Henry so much I’m thoroughly disgusted.  But see,—­there’s Henry now, at Mr. Selden’s gate,—­with another gentleman.”