over again, looking vainly for something that could never be found; of
being suddenly surrounded and cut off by swollen streams; and of
crawling, unclean beasts with preternatural feelers who got into her
boots. Then these heavy dreams cleared away in part, and the stream
seemed to ripple like the sound of church bells, and these chimed out
the old tune

"Quite through the streets, with silver sound," &c.

And then, at last, she awoke one fine morning to hear the sweet
chim-chiming of the church bells, and to see Nurse sitting by her
bedside. She lay still for a few moments to make quite sure, and then
asked in a voice so faint that it surprised herself:

"Has Mrs. Overtheway gone to church?"

On which, to her great astonishment, Nurse burst into tears. For this
was the first reasonable sentence that poor Ida had spoken for several
days.

To be very ill is not pleasant; but the slow process of getting back
strength is often less pleasant still. One afternoon Ida knelt in her
old place at the window. She was up, but might not go out, and this
was a great grief. The day had been provokingly fine, and even now,
though the sun was setting, it seemed inclined to make a fresh start,
so bright was the rejuvenated glow with which it shone upon the
opposite houses, and threw a mystic glory over Mrs. Overtheway's white
steps and green railings. Oh! how Ida had wished to go out that
afternoon! How long and clear the shadows were! It seemed to Ida that
whoever was free to go into the open air could have nothing more to