valued that ottoman for his sake, and would not have suffered it to go into the sale had she possessed any place she could regard as her own where to put it. She needed no such article to remind her of the dear father—the thought of him would be forever present to her without the assistance of ottomans to refresh her memory.
On this ottoman, when dressed, Judith seated herself, and let her hands rest in her lap. She was better; she would soon be well; and when well would take the first opportunity to depart.
The door was suddenly thrown open by her aunt, and in the doorway stood Coppinger looking at her. He raised his hand to his hat in salutation, but said nothing. She was startled and unable to speak. In another moment the door was shut again.
That day she resolved that nothing should detain her longer than she was forced. Jamie—her own dear Jamie—came to see her, and the twins were locked in each other's arms.
"Oh, Ju! darling Ju! You are quite well, are you not? And Captain Coppinger has given me a gray donkey instead of Tib; and I'm to ride it about whenever I choose!"
"But, dear, Mr. Menaida has no stable, and no paddock."
"Oh, Ju! that's nothing. I'm coming up here, and we shall be together—the donkey and you and me and. Aunt Dunes!"
"No, Jamie. Nothing of the sort. Listen to me. You remain at Mr. Menaida's. I am coming back."
"But I've already brought up my clothes."
"You take them back. Attend to me. You do not come here. I go back to Mr. Menaida's immediately."
"But, Ju! you've got all your pretty things from the parsonage here!"
"They are not mine. Mr. Coppinger bought them for himself."
"But—the donkey?"
"Leave the donkey here. Pay attention to my words. I lay a strict command on you. As you love me, Jamie, do not leave Mr. Menaida's; remain there till my return."
That night there was a good deal of noise in the house. Judith's room lay in a wing, nevertheless she heard the
