"He must be a nice person. Well, Rhoda, you did right to come back here, and you are come in very good time too, for several of the old ladies are ailing and need a deal of waiting on. Just take hold and help Mrs. Lambert whenever you see a chance. I suppose you don't give up your idea of getting an education?" "No, ma'am. I don't think I can give it up so long as there is any 'me,'" said Rhoda, smiling somewhat sadly. "But the time is getting on very fast." "Yes, and you are getting on too. Well, study as much as you can, my dear; and if you want any help in the way of books, come to me about it. Don't be discouraged. I shall try to find you a place where you can work for your board and go to school, and in the mean time just make yourself useful here. This will always be your home, you know." Rhoda was very willing to make herself useful. She waited on Granny Parsons, now sick and confined to her room, and did errands for the house, and made caps and aprons for the old ladies, and read aloud to Mrs. Carson, the blind woman, and whenever she had a little time practised scales and exercises diligently on the little old piano, compared to which even the school-room piano at Mr. Ferrand's was a fine instrument. One day, as she was coming home from executing multifarious commissions, with her hands full of little bundles, she saw Isa crossing the street, and waited for her to come up. Isa was thinner and more languid than ever. She had her arms full of books, and seemed so occupied with her own thoughts that she hardly recognized Rhoda, even when she spoke. Then, with a cry of joy which made two or three people look round, and dropping a shower of books, she threw her arms round her friend's neck and kissed her. "Oh how glad I am to see you!" she exclaimed. "I have watched and watched for you every day since I began to go to school again, but I never could see you." "To school!" said Rhoda, picking up Isa's books with some trouble, for her own hands were full. "You don't mean to say you are going to school again, after all the doctor said? I do think your father is crazy." "I don't know whether 'he' is crazy, but I know who will be," said Isa. "But when the doctor said so much about it—" "Oh, pa thinks the doctor was mistaken," said Isa. "He went over and talked to the teachers, and Miss Black—just like her, the cross, meddling old thing!—told him that I was always going into Palmer's and buying ice cream and cake and candy, and that was what made me sick. I have done it sometimes when ma gave me money because I got so faint and hungry. So pa believed it all, of course, and here I am grinding away again. I declare, Rhoda, there isn't a day that I don't wish I was dead." "Oh, Isa! You shouldn't!" "I can't help it. I do, and so would you in my place. No, you wouldn't; you would like it, for you are not a dunce and a fool, as I am."