It is a strange thing to say, but I believe that the few weeks that followed Mrs. Lee's funeral were the most tranquil of any that had preceded them since Mrs. Dennison came to our house. The great central object of interest in the household was at rest. All the little cares that had occupied us were over; the very altar of our household had been torn away, and for a long time we found it impossible to find new channels of interest, or settle ourselves down to anything. There was no longer an attempt at amusing our guest, and she did not seem to require it; indeed, from all appearances she had become a member of the family. We seldom met now, but kept our own rooms. Jessie became sadder and sadder each day; nothing interested her; she absolutely pined to follow her mother. CHAPTER LV. OLD MRS. BOSWORTH'S VISIT. Compacts made in a state of excitement are seldom lasting. If Jessie's heart had softened toward Mrs. Dennison in the extremity of her grief, it came back to the old standpoint as that grief took thought. Something more subtile than her own will held her confidence back. But this was no time for excitement of any kind; the depth of grief into which we had fallen kept all worldly passions back. So, as I have said, we were more tranquil than of old. Poor, poor Lottie! she went about the house like a wounded bird that had seen its nest destroyed. Without asking for leave, she had arranged Mrs. Lee's room, in the tower-chamber, exactly as it had been during her mistress's life, and guarded it from her own pretty den with all the vigilance of old time. If any one entered the chamber and touched an article that had been Mrs. Lee's, Lottie would cry out as if struck by a sudden pang, and fall into a nervous tremor till the intruder had departed. She never allowed any one, not even Jessie, to enter the room without following her like a watch-dog. No one was surprised at this. The devotion of that girl to her mistress had been something wonderful. That she should feel great attachment to anything belonging to her was beautifully natural. So it happened that she fell into possession of the rooms in the tower, and secluded herself there, taking little interest in anything else. Some days after things had settled into this state, old Mrs. Bosworth came over in her heavy family carriage. In our sadness, this became an event, and both Jessie and I left our room to meet her, grateful for anything that showed real sympathy for our bereavement. The sorrows which this good old lady had passed through, placed her in delicate sympathy with us. She met Jessie with such motherly gentleness, that tears came into the young creature's eyes almost for the first time since our loss. The old lady saw this, and, drawing the agitated face to hers, kissed it.