Charles had improved wonderfully. There were some remarkable springs up the Hudson that had wonderful health-giving properties. And when they came back to New York he was so taken with the advantages that he begged to remain. The doctor in whose charge he had been, promised to watch over him and not allow him to study too severely, and a nice boarding place had been found for him with a charming motherly woman.
"Oh, Annis!" cried her mother, holding her off after the first fond embrace, "let me look at you. I have lost my little girl!"
"Mamma, I couldn't stay little always. But the part that loves and thinks doesn't change, and I have tried very hard sometimes not to want you when I knew Charles needed you. I am so glad to get you back! Oh, you do believe that? But there is a queer thing I don't understand. When we first came to Virginia it was very hard to try to love the others when they took so much attention."
She was studying her mother with large, earnest, lustrous eyes.
"Yes," said Mrs. Mason, with a fond embrace.
"And now I love them all so much. I'm not quite sure about Varina—I have not seen her in so long. But I love you the best."
The mother kissed her fondly. No one, not even her husband, who was so grateful for the sacrifice she had made, knew how hard a trial it had been to her.
Just as they were considering whether they could leave Annis at school and do without her, word came from the Pineries. Mrs. Floyd had a sudden stroke, not so very severe, but at her time of life a serious matter.
Young Mrs. Floyd and her husband and Varina came North a few days after this. There was a month of slow wasting away. Mrs. Brandon Floyd had a new baby, Marian was almost worn out, and Mrs. Mason found herself the comforter again, and much needed. Then grandmamma slipped out of life, and was laid by the side of Mr. Floyd; and Mr. Mason, seconded warmly by his wife, insisted that Marian should spend the winter with them and rest, perhaps make it her future home.
Varina was a tall, rather distinguished-looking girl who had blossomed somewhat prematurely into womanhood. Annis was still a little girl beside her. She was gay and bright, and full of her own good times. Jaqueline's marriage was delightful; they had enjoyed the account in the paper. Charles was well again, but what a sad time it had been for him! As for herself, she and Dolly were the dearest of sisters, and had had the best of times. She should coax papa to let her return to Charleston. She knew so many people there, and it would be just horrid to go back to the old plantation. There were all the others, and surely papa could spare her.