Mrs Pease had not been any too friendly hitherto and her sister-in-law was too glad to meet her halfway. So she gave up the pleasure she had been promising herself at Dr Everett’s, and went with her. Her kind heart had been touched by the sight of the boys growing up there “on father’s old place,” as she always called it to herself, and she longed for a chance to do them good, for the sake of the boys she had lost, and who were lying beside their father and their little sister far away in the West. So she gladly went.
All Thanksgiving Days and dinners are alike in most respects in homes were nothing very sorrowful has happened since the last one. It was in all respects a delightful day at Dr Everett’s. It was very mild for the season, and the young people went out and in, and amused themselves in various ways, and, without making any definite plan to that end, had a good time.
“Fidelia seems to be growing more cheerful again,” said the doctor, as the sound of gay voices came to them where they were sitting in the house.
“Yes; I hope it will be well with her after awhile. I am not afraid for her,” said Eunice. But though she smiled she sighed also; and then she added—“I would have liked to live a little longer for her sake.”
“You may live many years yet, as Justin says. With a quiet life, such as you live, you may be well, though not strong, for years to come. You may see your sister’s children yet before you die.”
Eunice shook her head.
“No; I do not look for that. And I don’t think Justin quite knows.”
“You are not feeling worse, Eunice?”
“No—oh, no! I am better in many ways. I do not trouble myself about my health any more. I hope I am willing either to stay or to go. As for my Fidelia—why, she will be as safe, and by-and-by she will be as happy without me as with me, thank God!”
There was a pause of several minutes, and then Dr Everett said—