—Longfellow.
"Molly, how you do work! a great deal too hard, I am sure," said the younger Elsie, coming into her cousin's room, to find her at her writing desk, pen in hand, as usual, an unfinished manuscript before her, and books and papers scattered about.
Molly looked up with a forced smile: she was not in mirthful mood.
"It is because I am so slow that I must keep at it or I get nothing done."
"Well, there's no need," said Elsie, "and really, Molly dear, I do believe you would gain time by resting more and oftener than you do. Who can work fast and well when brain and body are both weary? I have come to ask if you will take a drive with our two grandpas, grandma and Mrs. Carrington?"
"Thank you kindly, but I can't spare the time to-day."
"But don't you think you ought? Your health is of more importance than that manuscript. I am sure, Molly, you need the rest. I have noticed that you are growing thin and pale of late, and look tired almost all the time."
"I was out for an hour this morning."
"An hour! and the weather is so delightful, everything out of doors looking so lovely, that the rest of us find it next to impossible to content ourselves within doors for an hour. Some of us are going to play croquet. If you will not drive, won't you let one of the servants wheel you out there—near enough to enable you to watch the game?"
"Please don't think me ungracious," Molly answered, coloring, "but I really should prefer to stay here and work."