Next day Mr. Browne sailed away with his “handful of Roses,” as Elsie sentimentally termed them (and indeed, Rose by herself would have been a handful for almost any man); and Clover, like Lord Ullin, was “left lamenting.”  Cousin Helen remained, however; and it was not till she too departed, a week later, that Clover fully recognized what it meant to have Katy married.  Then indeed she could have found it in her heart to emulate Eugenie de la Ferronayes, and shed tears over all the little inanimate objects which her sister had left behind,—­the worn-out gloves, the old dressing slippers in the shoe-bag.  But dear me, we get used to everything, and it is fortunate that we do!  Life is too full, and hearts too flexible, and really sad things too sad, for the survival of sentimental regrets over changes which do not involve real loss and the wide separation of death.  In time, Clover learned to live without Katy, and to be cheerful still.

Her cheerfulness was greatly helped by the letters which came regularly, and showed how contented Katy herself was.  She and Ned were having a beautiful time, first in New York, and making visits near it, then in Portsmouth and Portland, when the frigate moved on to these harbors, and in Newport, which was full and gay and amusing to the last degree.  Later, in August, the letters came from Bar Harbor, where Katy had followed, in company with the commodore’s wife, who seemed as nice as her husband; and Clover heard of all manner of delightful doings,—­sails, excursions, receptions on board ship, and long moonlight paddles with Ned, who was an expert canoeist.  Everybody was so wonderfully kind, Katy said; but Ned wrote to his sister that Katy was a great favorite; every one liked her, and his particular friends were all raging wildly round in quest of girls just like her to marry.  “But it’s no use; for, as I tell them,” he added, “that sort isn’t made in batches.  There is only one Katy; and happily she belongs to me, and the other fellows must get along as they can.”

This was all satisfactory and comforting; and Clover could endure a little loneliness herself so long as her beloved Katy seemed so happy.  She was very busy besides, and there were compensations, as she admitted to herself.  She liked the consequence of being at the head of domestic affairs, and succeeding to Katy’s position as papa’s special daughter,—­the person to whom he came for all he wanted, and to whom he told his little secrets.  She and Elsie became more intimate than they had ever been before; and Elsie in her turn enjoyed being Clover’s lieutenant as Clover had been Katy’s.  So the summer did not seem long to any of them; and when September was once past, and they could begin to say, “month after next,” the time sped much faster.

“Mrs. Hall asked me this morning when the Worthingtons were coming,” said Johnnie, one day.  “It seems so funny to have Katy spoken of as ’the Worthingtons.’”