She had not sat there long, ere the sound of wheels again drew her to the door, and in a moment old Charlotte and the yellow wagon entered the yard. Mary, who was now nearly well, sprang out, and bounding up the steps, seized Judith's hand with a grasp which told how glad she was to see her.

"Why, you ain't dreadful sick, is you?" said Judith peering under her bonnet.

"Oh, no, not sick at all," returned Mary; and then, as she saw the chair, with its cushions and pillows, she burst into a loud laugh, which finally ended in a hearty cry, when she thought how kind was every one to her.

She had been at home but a few days when she was solicited to take charge of a small select school. But Mrs Mason thought it best for her to return to Mount Holyoke, and accordingly she declined Mr. Knight's offer, greatly to his disappointment, and that of many others. Mrs. Bradley, who never on any occasion paid her school bill, was the loudest in her complaints, saying that, "for all Tim never larnt a speck, and stood at the foot all summer long when Mary kept before, he'd got so sassy there was no living with him, and she wanted him out of the way."

Widow Perkins, instead of being sorry was glad, for if Mary didn't teach, there was no reason why Sally Ann shouldn't. "You'll never have a better chance," said she to her daughter, "there's no stifficut needed for a private school, and I'll clap on my things and run over to Mr Knight's before he gets off to his work."

It was amusing to see Mr. Knight's look of astonishment, when the widow made her application. Lydia, who chanced to be present, hastily retreated behind the pantry door, where with her apron over her mouth, she laughed heartily as she thought of a note, which the candidate for teaching had once sent them, and in which "i's" figured conspicuously, while her mother was "polightly thanked for those yeast?"

Possibly Mr. Knight thought of the note, too, for he gave the widow no encouragement, and when on her way home she called for a moment at Mrs. Mason's, she "thanked her stars that Sally Ann wasn't obliged to keep school for a livin', for down below where she came from, teachers warn't fust cut!"

One morning about a week after Mary's return, she announced her intention of visiting her mother's grave. "I am accustomed to so much exercise," said she, "that I can easily walk three miles, and perhaps on my way home I shall get a ride."

Mrs Mason made no objection, and Mary was soon on her way. She was a rapid walker, and almost before she was aware of it, reached the village. As she came near Mrs. Campbell's, the wish naturally arose that Ella should accompany her. Looking up she saw her sister in the garden and called to her.

"Wha-a-t?" was the very loud and uncivil answer which came back to her, and in a moment Ella appeared round the corner of the house, carelessly swinging her straw flat, and humming a fashionable song. On seeing her sister she drew back the corners of her mouth into something which she intended for a smile, and said, "Why, I thought it was Bridget calling me, you looked so much like her in that gingham sun-bonnet. Won't you come in?"