“And some strawberries and cream,” repeated Sally; but Emma declined both and went at once to her room.

Mr. Ashmore did not come home until late that night, for I was awake and heard him stumbling up-stairs in the dark.  I remember, too, of having experienced the very benevolent wish that he would break his neck!  As I expected, Emma did not make her appearance at the breakfast table, but about ten she came down to the parlor and asked to see Mr. Ashmore alone.  Of what occurred during that interval I never knew, except that at its close cousin looked very white, and Mr. Ashmore very black, notwithstanding which he soon took his accustomed walk to Captain Howard’s.  He was gone about three hours, and on his return announced his intention of going to Boston in the afternoon train.  No one opposed him, for all were glad to have him go.

Just before he left, grandmother, who knew all was not right, said to him:  “Young man, I wish you well; but mind what I say, you’ll get your pay yet for the capers you’ve cut here.”

“I beg your pardon, madam,” he returned, with much more emphasis on madam than was at all necessary, “I beg your pardon, but I think she has cut the capers; at least she dismissed me of her own accord.”

I thought of what I had heard, but ’twas a secret, so I kept it safely, although I almost bit my tongue off in my zealous efforts.  After Ashmore was gone, Emma, who had taken a violent cold the evening before, took her bed, and was slightly ill for nearly a week.  Almost every day Mr. Evelyn called to see how she was, always bringing her a fresh bouquet of flowers.  On Thursday, Carrie called, bringing Emma some ice-cream which Aunt Eunice had made.  She did not ask to see her, but before she left she asked Anna if she did not wish to buy her old piano.

“What will you do without it?” asked Anna.

“Oh,” said Carrie, “I cannot use two.  I have got a new one.”

The stocking dropped from grandmother’s hand as she exclaimed:  “What is the world a-comin’ to!  Got two pianners!  Where’d you get ’em?”

“My new one was a present, and came from Boston,” answered Carrie, with the utmost sang froid.

“You don’t say Ashmore sent it to you!  How much did it cost?” asked grandma.

“Mr. Ashmore wrote that it cost three hundred and fifty dollars,” was Carrie’s reply.

Grandmother was perfectly horror-stricken; but desirous of making Carrie feel as comfortable as possible, she said, “S’posin somebody should tell him about Penoyer?”

For an instant Carrie turned pale, as she said quickly, “What does any one know about him to tell?”

“A great deal—­more than you think they do—­yes, a great deal,” was grandma’s answer.

After that Carrie came very frequently to see us, always bringing something nice for Emma or grandma!