"Precious lamb!" said Mammy, "she has cried herself to sleep." Then,
kissing her, and rousing her gently, she told her that her aunt and
cousins had come to take her to Brook Farm.

Agnes was at first very happy at the idea of once more enjoying the
sunshine of her aunt's cheerful home, but, when she heard that Lewie was
sick, a cloud came over her face.

"Aunty," she whispered, "I think I had better not go, perhaps I can do
something for Lewie. I can _almost_ always amuse him."

"Lewie is too sick to be amused now, my dear, and you can do no good
here; besides, I want to get you away as quickly as possible, for I
think it may be the scarlet fever that Lewie has. Come, darling, we will
go."

Agnes drew her hand quietly from that of her aunt, and running back, she
stooped over her little brother as he lay in his mother's arms, and
kissed him; and then, standing a moment before her mother, she raised
her eyes to her face. But her mother's eyes, with a gaze of almost
despair, were fixed on her darling boy, and she did not seem to be aware
even of the presence of her little daughter.

A look of disappointment passed over the face of Agnes, as, without
intruding upon her mother by even a word of farewell, she turned, and
put her hand once more in that of her aunt. And now, as, comfortably
wrapped in buffalo skins, Mrs. Wharton and the little girls are flying
over the country roads, to the sound of the merry sleigh-bells, we will
relate a conversation which took place between Mammy and Bridget; and
by so doing, will give a little insight into the history of the young