Nobody

"Why not, Lois?"

"I thought it would be best not. But now the way seems clear, and I cantake the fun of it. It is clearly right to go."

"Of course! It is always right to go wherever you are asked."

"O no, Madge!"

"Well, – wherever the invitation is honest, I mean."

"O, that isn't enough."

"What else? supposing you have the means to go. I am not sure that wehave that condition in the present instance. But if you have, what elseis to be waited for?"

"Duty – " Lois whispered.

"O, bother duty! Here have you gone and almost killed yourself forduty."

"Well, – supposing one does kill oneself? – one must do what is duty."

"That isn't duty."

"O, it may be."

"Not to kill yourself. You have almost killed yourself, Lois."

"I couldn't help it."

"Yes, you could. You make duty a kind of iron thing."

"Not iron," said Lois; she spoke slowly and faintly, but now shesmiled. "It is golden!"

"That don't help. Chains of gold may be as hard to break as chains ofiron."

"Who wants them broken?" said Lois, in the same slow, contented way.

"Duty? Why Madge, it's the King's orders!"

"Do you mean that you were ordered to go to that place, and then tonurse those children through the fever?"

"Yes, I think so."

"I should be terribly afraid of duty, if I thought it came in suchshapes. There's the train! – Now if you can get downstairs – "

That was accomplished, though with tottering steps, and Lois was safelyseated in one of the cars, and her head pillowed upon the back of theseat. There was no more talking then for some time. Only when Haarlembridge was past and New York close at hand, Lois spoke.

"Madge, suppose Mrs. Wishart should not be here to meet us? You mustthink what you would do."

"Why, the train don't go any further, does it?"

"No! – but it goes back. I mean, it will not stand still for you. Itmoves away out of the station-house as soon as it is empty."

"There will be carriages waiting, I suppose. But I am sure I hope shewill meet us. I wrote in plenty of time. Don't worry, dear! we'llmanage."

"I am not worrying," said Lois. "I am a great deal too happy to worry."

However, that was not Madge's case, and she felt very fidgety. WithLois so feeble, and in a place so unknown to her, and with baggagechecks to dispose of, and so little time to do anything, and no doubt acrowd of doubtful characters lounging about, as she had always heardthey did in New York; Madge did wish very anxiously for a pilot and aprotector. As the train slowly moved into the Grand Central, sheeagerly looked to see some friend appear. But none appeared.

"We must go out, Madge," said Lois. "Maybe we shall find Mrs.

Wishart – I dare say we shall – she could not come into the cars – "

The two made their way accordingly, slowly, at the end of theprocession filing out of the car, till Madge got out upon the platform.There she uttered an exclamation of joy.

"O Lois! – there's Mr. Dillwyn?"

"But we are looking for Mrs. Wishart," said Lois.

The next thing she knew, however, somebody was carefully helping herdown to the landing; and then, her hand was on a stronger arm than thatof Mrs. Wishart, and she was slowly following the stream of people tothe front of the station-house. Lois was too exhausted by this time toask any questions; suffered herself to be put in a carriage passively, where Madge took her place also, while Mr. Dillwyn went to give thechecks of their baggage in charge to an expressman. Lois then broke outagain with,

"O Madge, it's like a dream!"

"Isn't it?" said Madge. "I have been in a regular fidget for two hourspast, for fear Mrs. Wishart would not be here."

"I didn't fidget," said Lois, "but I did not know how I was going toget from the cars to the carriage. I feel in a kind of exhaustedElysium!"

"It's convenient to have a man belonging to one," said Madge.

"Hush, pray!" said Lois, closing her eyes. And she hardly opened themagain until the carriage arrived at Mrs. Wishart's, which was somethingof a drive. Madge and Mr. Dillwyn kept up a lively conversation, aboutthe journey and Lois's condition, and her summer; and how he happenedto be at the Grand Central. He went to meet some friends, he saidcoolly, whom he expected to see by that train.

"Then we must have been in your way," exclaimed Madge regretfully.

"Not at all," he said.

"But we hindered you from taking care of your friends?"

"No," he said indifferently; "by no means. They are taken care of."

And both Madge and Lois were too simple to know what he meant.

At Mrs. Wishart's, Lois was again helped carefully out and carefullyin, and half carried up-stairs to her own room, whither it was decidedshe had better go at once. And there, after being furnished with a bowlof soup, she was left, while the others went down to tea. So Madgefound her an hour afterwards, sunk in the depths of a great, softeasy-chair, gazing at the fanciful flames of a kennel coal fire.

"O Madge, it's a dream!" Lois said again languidly, though with plentyof expression. "I can't believe in the change from Esterbrooke here."

"It's a change from Shampuashuh," Madge returned. "Lois, I didn't knowthings could be so pretty. And we have had the most delightful tea, andsomething – cakes – Mrs. Wishart calls wigs, the best things you eversaw in your life; but Mr. Dillwyn wouldn't let us send some up to you."

"Mr. Dillwyn!" —

"Yes, he said they were not good for you. He has been just as pleasantas he could be. I never saw anybody so pleasant. I like Mr. Dillwynvery much."