"I have not told her, but I think she must know that it is impossible." "She has greatly desired for you the privileges of the place. She will be disappointed." "I cannot go." "I think, if I were you, I would leave it to your sister to say. And, remember, she must not be excited or troubled." "I know." "And you must know that Mrs Stone is not just a nurse, but a friend whom your sister loves and trusts, and you must trust her too." "I know," repeated Fidelia. "If you were to ask my advice, I should say--Let there be no change in your plans; go as you intended to go, and--" "But I am not going to ask your advice, nor the advice of any one. You must think me a poor creature, Dr Everett, if you can believe that I could leave my sister, now that I know!" "My dear, you know better than that." "Eunice did not go away when--Oh, Dr Everett, I am so miserable! She is all I have--all I have!" The tears came now in a flood. "That is better," said the doctor to himself. To Fidelia he said nothing for awhile, but let her tears have way. There was no time for more words, for Jabez had come. Strange to say, there was not a word spoken between Fidelia and the lad till they reached home. Jabez had "thought over" a good many things he meant to ask about, as to his recent reading, but he had caught a glimpse of her face by the light of the doctor's lamp, and the questions were kept for another time. "Miss Eunice is not worse, is she, Fidelia?" said he as they entered the gate. "No, Jabez; but--good-night." One word of Dr Everett's stayed with Fidelia. Eunice must not be excited or troubled. Still many days must not pass before her decision to stay at home was made known to her. Would it grieve and trouble her very much? In her perplexity Fidelia spoke first to Mrs Stone, who listened in silence to all she had to say. "Is it that which has been troubling you all these days?" said she, with the air of one relieved. "Let's talk it over and find out what is best, before we say a word to Eunice about it. Is it of her you are thinking, or yourself? Before we go further you must settle that." "It isn't that I think Eunice needs me at home, if that is what you mean." "Yes; you know I will take good care of her. I love her, and I have nursed sick folks before. She'll miss you? Yes; but then she has set her heart on your getting the good of another year at the seminary, and she may feel worse about your having to lose that than about her having to lose your company. And she begins this winter with better health and better courage than she did last winter." "And do you think I would have gone away last winter if I had known? I know she has you now. Yes, Aunt Ruby, it is of myself I am thinking. She is all I've got, and I must stay with her while she is here. Months or years--what is the difference?"