“Now, Phillis!” said she, coming up to the sofa; “we ha’ done a’ we can for you, and th’ doctors has done a’ they can for you, and I think the Lord has done a’ He can for you, and more than you deserve, too, if you don’t do something for yourself. If I were you, I’d rise up and snuff the moon, sooner than break your father’s and your mother’s hearts wi’ watching and waiting till it pleases you to fight your own way back to cheerfulness. There, I never favoured long preachings, and I’ve said my say.” A day or two after Phillis asked me, when we were alone, if I thought my father and mother would allow her to go and stay with them for a couple of months. She blushed a little as she faltered out her wish for change of thought and scene. “Only for a short time, Paul. Then—we will go back to the peace of the old days. I know we shall; I can, and I will!”