For of course Eunice must hear all there was to tell. She could keep nothing back from Eunice, even if she would; and in her heart she knew that her sister's thought would be, that she had missed more than she had gained by her over-eagerness to succeed. And, looking at her pale cheeks and her big eyes in the glass, she determined at least to spare her sister the pain of seeing her till she had rested awhile, and looked like herself again. So she had at the last moment written to Eunice, and had made Nellie Austin happy by coming home with her. She was heartily welcomed by all in the house, and not as a stranger. For Dr Austin had known her father and mother long ago, and Dr Everett was also a friend of his. It was a good house in which to rest--cool and quiet and well-regulated, stirred only by the mild excitement which the comings and goings of Nellie's three young brothers made. But though Fidelia rested she was hardly content. She was not at peace with herself nor at ease in her pleasant surroundings. Nellie had many friends to see after her long absence, and went here and there as happy as a bird, but, cautioned by her father, she did not urge her friend to go with her, and for the first few days left her much to herself. Dr Austin watched Fidelia quietly during this time, wondering a little where the charm was which had caught the heart of his volatile little daughter. This pale listless girl was little like the bright scholar who had carried all before her in her classes, and whose kindness and cheerfulness had been a help and refuge for the homesick and the easily discouraged among them. But he waited patiently. She had been doing too much, and needed rest and quiet and fresh air. If her lassitude continued many days longer, then, he told his wife, he would have something to say to her. In the meantime Fidelia, half conscious of their observation of her and of their disappointment in her, was much ashamed of herself and anything but happy, and wished with all her heart that she had gone straight home to Eunice. "At home, with something to do, I should never have been so stupid. To-morrow I will find some work. It is because, for the first time in my life, I have nothing to do that I feel so good-for-nothing." "Suppose you go a-fishing with the boys to-morrow. They will like to have you go, and it will do you good," said a cheerful voice behind her, when she had got thus far. Fidelia rose from the doorstep, and faced the speaker. It was cousin Abby Chase, who had come into the porch, and seated herself in a low chair with a bowl of raisins in her hand. "I was just wishing for something to do; let me help you," said Fidelia. "Well, if you would like to, I shall be glad of your help."