"I am sure there is not," said Rhoda. "I don't think I should go back, even if they wanted me. I do want to forgive them, and I think I shall, but I can't feel as if I wanted to see them again. But I don't wish people to think them worse than they are." CHAPTER VI. _MISS BROWN._ "HOW is Miss Brown?" asked Rhoda, one morning, as Mrs. Lambert brought her breakfast. She had been dressed two or three days, and had even gone down to tea the night before, but it was not thought advisable for her to attempt too much at once. "Well, she is better, so far as the pain goes, but she has pretty dull times, poor old soul! If it was some of the folks, they would fret their heads off; and mine too, but she isn't one of that sort. She never complains." "I was thinking I might go in and sit with her, if you think she would like to see me," said Rhoda. "I could wait on her and get what she wants, and perhaps read to her." "Oh, my dear, if you could! It would be a great comfort and save me ever so much trouble. There are so many sick now; and so much to see to, that I have to be here and there and everywhere at once." "I feel as if I ought to begin doing something," said Rhoda; "I have been waited on long enough. I never knew how much I was in the habit of doing for myself till I was so weak I couldn't walk across the room. Do you know, Mrs. Lambert, I never was confined to my bed a day in all my life before this time? I feel as if I had learned a great deal—as if I had learned how to feel for other people as I never did before." "Then you have been sick to purpose," said the nurse. "A great many people are sick all their lives and never learn as much as that. But come, eat your breakfast, and then we will go and see Miss Brown." Miss Brown lay in bed in her pretty neat room with her little black dog beside her, looking so little changed that it seemed to Rhoda as if she had seen the old lady for the last time yesterday, instead of nearly nine years before. "Rhoda has come to sit with you a while," said Mrs. Lambert. "You remember her, don't you?" "Oh yes," said Miss Brown, evidently very much pleased. "You have grown into a woman, my dear, but you keep your child's face wonderfully. I should have known you anywhere." "And I am sure I should have known you," said Rhoda. "You have not changed a bit, nor the room, either. I believe I could tell now exactly which books have pictures in them. I should almost think that dog was old Beauty, though I suppose that can hardly be." "Oh no; Beauty died several years ago. This is one of her puppies, and she is growing an old dog too. That is the worst of dogs. They will grow old and die." "I suppose if they lived thirty years, it would be all the harder to part with them," observed Rhoda. "Anyhow, I would rather people should die than they should do some other things."