"Neither do I," returned her husband. "You were no more to blame for working in the factory, than Mary is for having been a pauper!" Mrs. Lincoln was silent, for she did not particularly care to hear about her early days, when she had been an operative in the cotton mills of Southbridge. She had possessed just enough beauty to captivate the son of the proprietor, who was fresh from college, and after a few weeks' acquaintance they were married. Fortunately her husband was a man of good sense, and restrained her from the commission of many foolish acts. Thus when she insisted upon sending for Rose and Jenny, he promptly replied that they should not come home! Still, as Rose seemed discontented, complaining that so much exercise made her side and shoulder ache, and as Jenny did not wish to remain another year unless Mary did, he consented that they should leave school at the close of the term, on condition that they went somewhere else. "I shall never make any thing of Henry," said he, "but my daughters shall receive every advantage, and perhaps one or the other of them will comfort my old age." He had spoken truly with regard to Henry, who was studying, or pretending to study law in the same office with Billy Bender. But his father heard no favorable accounts of him, and from time to time large bills were presented for the payment of carriage hire, wine, and "drunken sprees" generally. So it is no wonder the disappointed father sighed, and turned to his daughters for the comfort his only son refused to give. But we have wandered from the examination at Mount Holyoke, for which great preparations were being made. Rose, knowing she was not to return, seemed to think all further effort on her part unnecessary; and numerous were the reprimands, to say nothing of the black marks which she received. Jenny, on the contrary, said she wished to retrieve her reputation for laziness, and leave behind a good impression. So, never before in her whole life had she behaved so well, or studied so hard as she did during the last few weeks of her stay at Mount Holyoke. Ida, who was expecting her father, aunt and cousin to be present at the anniversary, was so engrossed with her studies, that she did not observe how sad and low spirited Mary seemed. She had tasted of knowledge, and now thirsted for more; but it could not be; the funds were exhausted, and she must leave the school, never perhaps to return again. "How much I shall miss my music, and how much I shall miss you," she said one day to Ida, who was giving her a lesson. "It's too bad you haven't a piano," returned Ida, "you are so fond of it, and improve so fast!" then after a moment she added, "I have a plan to propose, and may as well do it now as any time. Next winter you must spend with me in Boston. Aunt Martha and I arranged it the last time I was at home, and we even selected your room, which is next to mine, and opposite to Aunt Martha's. Now what does your ladyship say to it?"