"Oh, you cannot tell, Moses, how it is, unless you see her. She is cheerful, happy; the only really joyous one among us."
"Cheerful! joyous! happy! She does not believe, then, these frightful things? I thought she would keep up; she is a brave little thing."
"No, Moses, she does believe. She has given up all hope of life,—all wish to live; and oh, she is so lovely,—so sweet,—so dear."
Sally covered her face with her hands and sobbed. Moses stood still, looking at her a moment in a confused way, and then he answered,—
"Come, get your bonnet, Sally, and go with me. You must go in and tell them; tell her that I am come, you know."
"Yes, I will," said Sally, as she ran quickly back to the house.
Moses stood listlessly looking after her. A moment after she came out of the door again, and Miss Roxy behind. Sally hurried up to Moses.
"Where's that black old raven going?" said Moses, in a low voice, looking back on Miss Roxy, who stood on the steps.
"What, Aunt Roxy?" said Sally; "why, she's going up to nurse Mara, and take care of her. Mrs. Pennel is so old and infirm she needs somebody to depend on."
"I can't bear her," said Moses. "I always think of sick-rooms and coffins and a stifling smell of camphor when I see her. I never could endure her. She's an old harpy going to carry off my dove."