"I will write to her and tell her how fast I am getting well; then I shall certainly get a letter. Don't you think so?" Laura was never so tempted to tell a lie. As it was, she answered as carelessly as she could, "It is a long time since I had a letter from her. Are you glad that we are all going to live at Greylock?" asked Laura. "Oh, are you going there to _live_? Going to leave this beautiful house? Why, Laura!" "Mamma wished one of her children to go, and it was most convenient for us; in fact, we are the only ones who could." "It doesn't seem like aunty to want you to leave this house, just as you are so nicely settled in it. Not an atom like her. Something is going wrong; I am sure there is. Has she gone crazy?" "No, no. Don't worry about it. We are perfectly satisfied to go." "Doesn't she like this house? Is that the reason?" "No, that's not the reason. How could she dislike it when she never saw it. Margaret, how you do tease one." "Do I?" asked Margaret, very humbly. "I don't mean to tease. Only I am puzzled." "People always are after such illness as yours." Margaret was silent, and lay back in her chair, to think. It was going to be pleasant to have Harry and Laura at Greylock. The more she saw of them the more she liked them. Then there were the children. By the way, where were the children. "Why, Laura," she said reproachfully, "I haven't seen the children since I came." "You'll see enough of them at Greylock." "Oh, but I want to see the dear little things now. Bring them to me; do." Laura went to the nursery, took off the children's black sashes, charged them to say nothing about grandmamma, and led them in. The moment Margaret's eye fell upon their truthful little faces, she looked at them searchingly, and with a startled air that alarmed Laura. "_Harry, who is dead?_" she asked. "Mamma told me not to tell," said the boy, bursting into tears. "His face has told me, Laura," said Margaret, faintly. "I see it all now. I made Harry save me, and let her drown!" "It is not true; you did _not_ let her drown! You tried to die in order to save her. We all admire and love you for it; we will all do anything and everything for you. Only don't look so; for mercy's sake, don't look as if you were dying. Run, children, and call nurse, and do you stay in the nursery. You've done mischief enough for one day. Margaret, won't you speak to me?" "She's only fainted, ma'am," said the nurse, a middle-aged, experienced woman. "No fear of her dying. Just help me lay her down flat on her back, and sprinkle her face with water. Or, if you please, a little hartshorn." Laura had had little to do with sickness, and was now so frightened that she could not remember whether the hartshorn should be diluted or not. She hastily mixed it, half and half, and the nurse poured it down Margaret's throat. It had the effect of bringing her to life again instantly; and there came a time when she and Laura could both laugh at the blunder.