the air, mother. Air and exercise, you know, the doctor says, are indispensable to health.”
“Dry, not damp air. This makes the difference. But you must act for yourself, Mary. You are now a woman, and must freely act in the light of that reason which God has given you. Because I love you, and desire your welfare, I thus seek to convince you that it is wrong to expose your health to-night. Your great desire to go blinds you to the real danger, which I can fully see.”
“You are over-anxious, mother,” urged Mary. “I know how I feel much better than you possibly can, and I know I am well enough to go.”
“I have nothing more to say, my child,” returned the mother. “I wish you to act freely, but wisely. Wisely I am sure you will not act if you go to-night. A temporary illness may not alone be the consequence; your health may receive a shock from which it will never recover.”
“Mother wishes to frighten me,” said Mary to herself, after her mother had left the room. “But I am not to be so easily frightened. I am sorry she makes such a serious matter about my going, for I never like to do any thing that is not agreeable to her feelings. But I must go to this
