"Not exactly from necessity; but the physicians recommended to Aunt Agnes to pass a fortnight here, this summer. You may have heard that she was quite ill, a year ago?" "Yes; Robert, of course, wrote me word of her illness. But Miss Wyllys looks quite like herself, I think. As for Mr. Wyllys, he really appears uncommonly well." "Thank you; grandpapa is very well, indeed; and Aunt Agnes has quite recovered her health, I trust." "Miss Wyllys," said Mr. Stryker, offering a glass of the water to Elinor, "can't I persuade you to take a sympathetic cup, this morning?" "I believe not," replied Elinor, shaking her head. "Do you never drink it"' asked Mrs. Creighton. "No; I really dislike it very much." "Pray, give it to me, Mr. Stryker," continued Mrs. Creighton. "Thank you: I am condemned to drink three glasses every morning, and it will be three hours, at this rate, before I get them." "Did you ever hear a better shriek than that, Miss Wyllys?" said Mr. Stryker, lowering his voice, and pointing to Emma Taylor, who was standing on the opposite side of the spring, engaged in a noisy, rattling flirtation. After drinking half the glass that had been given to her, she had handed it to the young man to whom she was talking, bidding him drink it without making a face. Of course, the youth immediately exerted himself to make a grimace. "Oh, you naughty boy!" screamed Miss Taylor, seizing another half-empty glass, and throwing a handful of water in his face; "this is the way I shall punish you!"