"He has done a friend's part by you; and now there is nothing more for him to do. I see no reason why he should write to you." I do!--thought Rotha; but Mrs. Mowbray's tone did not invite her to pursue the subject; and she let it thenceforth alone. CHAPTEK XXII. A CHANGE. The two years of smooth sailing along the stream of life, were ended. What was coming next? But how should the sailor learn navigation, if he had never anything but calm weather and quiet airs? It was spring, late in May; when one evening Mrs. Mowbray came into Rotha's little room, shut the door, and sat down. Rotha looked up from her book and smiled. Mrs. Mowbray looked down at the book and sighed. A heavy sigh, it seemed to Rotha, and her smile died away. "You want to speak to me, madame?" she said, and laid her book away. "I am going to send you home--" said the lady abruptly. "Home!--" the word was but half uttered. What was this? The term was not near at an end. "You must go, my dear," Mrs. Mowbray went on more softly; for the first word had been spoken with the sternness of pain. "I must send you all away from me." "Whom?" "All of you! It has pleased heaven to visit me with a great calamity. You must all go." "What is it, Mrs. Mowbray?" said Rotha, trembling with a fear to which she could give no form. "I do not know, but I think it too probable, that a contagious disease has broken out in my family. The little Snyders are both ill with scarlet fever." "They are at home." "But Miss Tremont is taken in just the same way, and Miss de Forest is complaining. I have isolated them both; but I have no choice but to send all the rest of you away, till I shall know how the thing will go." Rotha looked terribly blank. "It is hard, isn't it?" said Mrs. Mowbray, noticing this with a faint smile; "but it is not best for us to have things go too smooth. I have had no rubs for two years or more." That this was a hard "rub" was evident. Mrs. Mowbray sat looking before her with a troubled face. "Why is it best for us that things should not go smooth?" Rotha ventured. To her sense the possible good of this disturbance was not apparent, while the positive evil was manifold. "The Lord knows!" said Mrs. Mowbray. "He sees uses, and needs, which we do not suspect. I am sorry for you, my dear child." "And I am sorry you are troubled, dear Mrs. Mowbray!" "I know you are. Your sympathy is very sweet to me.--We have had a pleasant two years together, have we not?" "Oh so pleasant!" echoed Rotha, almost in tears. "But--this sickness will pass over; and then we may come back again, may we not?" "It is too near the end of term, to come back this spring. It cannot be before next September now; and that is a long way off. One never knows what will happen in so many months!"