The old homestead resumed its quiet tone, and its occupants their usual habits, more reconciled to their changes, more fit to play their part in the battle of life. No longer looking upon their hoard of bliss as secure, no longer expecting Amidst the scene to find, Some spot to real happiness consigned, they endeavor to prepare themselves to breast the storm, should sorrow come again upon the little band. All but Minnie, her grief was violent and willful, refusing all comfort, rejecting the means of softening it while it lasted; but there was no change in her light volatile disposition; and Kate, poor Kate! wise from sad experience, lectured in vain. “Where is Blanche?” said Lisa, coming in from the garden with her bonnet on. “Do you know Minnie?” “Do I know? Yes; she’s hid in the moon, if you can’t find her; for that is where Ariosto says every thing is hid that is lost.” “Pshaw, Minnie! do not be foolish. Where is Blanche?” “Tell me what you want with her, and I will take a broomstick and ride after her then?” said the wild girl. “I must be paid for so much trouble before I undertake it.” “I would you could promise to stay in the clouds a while and freeze your spirits into reason. But my wants are no secret or I’d never tell you, madcap Minnie. Go and find Blanche, and ask her for the key of the silver closet.” “And that is all! I’m sorry I promised now, as the contempt I feel for the errand makes it disgraceful. But here I go, being honor itself about keeping promises.” “Excepting those you make to become better and wiser,” rejoined Lisa, as she ran off. In an instant she was back. “Lord bless us! She is in the library listening to Kenneth read Cosmos. I wish he’d put _me_ to sleep sometimes, as I am sure he often does his wife.” “I wish he would!” said Lisa, “and he would oblige others besides myself. Go and ask Kate to come down in the store-room and help me.” “And what do you want with Kate in the store-room, Miss Lisa?” said Minnie, as she tied the key she held to the string of her bonnet. “There must be something going on that I cannot guess.” “I want her to make an Italian cream for dinner, while I busy myself with something else that does not concern you.” “On the principle of ‘_Faut être deux pour avoir du plaisir_,’ I presume,” said Minnie. “How affecting! But something is in the wind, Lisa, or you would not fuss over creams, etc. Is any one expected to dinner?” “I give you permission to expect as many persons as you like,” replied she, with provoking gravity. “Tell me their names, and I will prepare the banquet.”