"I wish Julia were here to see it." She put away their playthings till Julia came back again; and would interrupt Eda when she began to tell an interesting story—that it might be kept till Julia could hear it too. The affectionate nurse became daily more alarmed for her darling's health. True, to an indifferent observer, Ellen did not look ill:—her eyes were unnaturally bright, and the least emotion sent the rich colour into her cheek—but Eda knew those hectic symptoms only too well; it was not the first time that she had watched their deceiving progress. She knew too that the child's nights were restless and feverish, that appetite she had none, and that, when worn out by the exertion of the morning, the rest of the day was spent in a state almost amounting to stupor. One morning Ellen, after rising, was seized with a sudden faintness; and, when recovered, seemed so totally unequal to the labour of lessons, that Eda felt herself fully justified in sending an excuse to Mrs. Dalton.
The very idea of being left quiet revived her;
