Emma began to feel very much worried.

“Oh, but there must be something that you enjoy doing; you must have something to think about at night that you are going to do the next day; some plan, some game, some fun or other!  Oh, my father will make you well and strong, and you must believe that he will, or else you won’t be happy and will grow worse and worse.”

“I do have something that I love to think about and to look forward to.  When I see other children jumping and running easily, as you did when you came up the hill just now, I think how much more beautiful it is in heaven than it is here; and how I shall not be sick or tired there, but can run about as much as I please among the beautiful flowers that grow there; roses and lilies that never fade.  Sha’n’t you be glad to go to heaven?”

Emma was nonplussed.  She knew that it was beautiful in heaven, to be sure; but she did not want to go there now; the earth too was beautiful and she was happy enough here; she had not half exhausted the pleasures and delights of her life.  Nora seemed waiting for an answer, and Emma stammered out:—­

“I never thought about it at all!”

Nora looked disappointed.

“Oh! that is too bad that we cannot talk about heaven.  There is no one but Clarissa whom I can speak to about it, and she did not come with us; I don’t mention it to mamma, because she begins to cry directly.  I thought when you came you would like it; I’m sorry you don’t.”

Emma did not answer.  She was trying to think of something which Nora would like to talk about instead of heaven.  A gleam of hope came to her.

“I know one thing you will enjoy,” she said; “very soon they will begin to cut the grass on the meadow, and they will pile it into beautiful soft hay-cocks, and we will go and lie down upon them all day long; it cannot tire you to lie in the hay, and it’s perfectly lovely.”

But Nora only shook her head again, and said nothing; she had no belief in the power of hay to make her well again, and the prospect was not to be compared to the pleasures of a heavenly garden.  Emma thought it time for her to say good-bye.  Mrs. Stanhope came in, and begged her to stay a while longer; her mother knew where she was, and there was no reason for her hurrying away.  Nora, however, did not second her mother’s efforts, and Emma was anxious to go.  It was getting late, she said, confusedly.  She had better be at home; and she hastily took her leave.  As soon as she stood outside the house, she made one big spring, and never stopped running, downhill and then up, till she stood on her own door-step; and then she suddenly reflected that she was not expected to come back so soon, and that her brothers were sure to make some unpleasant remarks on her quick return; so she tried to think what she could do with herself for a while.  “I’ll find aunty,” was her speedy decision, “and I’ll tell her all about my visit, and how different it was from what I expected, and how I had to come away because I couldn’t think of anything more to say to Nora.  Aunty’ll understand, and she won’t let the boys laugh at me.”