"Yes; if you think best, we will," answered the mother. And Frederic,
the tall footman, was summoned to carry the little girl down the long
staircase and out of the house. Then, once out-of-doors, the two women,
supporting the child tenderly between them, led her through the sunny
garden.

"Nora, are you happy now?" asked the mother, tenderly.

"Yes; it is beautiful here," replied the child; "but I should like to go
down to the stone bench by the river-side, where the branches dip into
the water."

So they went on over the green terraces to the water-side, down to the
seat almost hidden under the lindens, among the clusters of whose
pendent, sweet-smelling blossoms the bees were busy, mingling their deep
murmur with the song which the Rhine sang in passing. Nora's eyes
followed the dancing waves that seemed like living, happy sprites.

"Oh! how I wish that I could leap and dance so, mamma! away! away! but I
am so tired; I am always tired. I long to hop about as the birds do up
in the trees there, and sing and be merry; but I am always so tired."

"My darling, when you are stronger you will dance," replied her mother,
in a cheerful tone; but her looks belied her voice, for she was far from
feeling the confidence which she tried to give.

"The doctor is coming to-day, and we will ask him what we can do this
summer to make you stronger. Now we must go back to the house, Nora; you
look pale and ill, my child. Is anything more than usual the matter with