"Too true--much too true. Now, Clovy, don't embitter our last moments with
reproaches. It's hard enough to leave you as it is, when I've just found
you again after all these years. I've had the most beautiful visit that
ever was, and you've all been awfully dear and nice. 'Kiss me quick and
let me go,' as the song says. I only wish Burnet was next door to West
Cedar Street!"

Next day Mr. Browne sailed away with his "handful of Roses," as Elsie
sentimentally termed them (and indeed, Rose by herself would have been a
handful for almost any man); and Clover, like Lord Ullin, was "left
lamenting." Cousin Helen remained, however; and it was not till she too
departed, a week later, that Clover fully recognized what it meant to have
Katy married. Then indeed she could have found it in her heart to emulate
Eugénie de la Ferronayes, and shed tears over all the little inanimate
objects which her sister had left behind,--the worn-out gloves, the old
dressing slippers in the shoe-bag. But dear me, we get used to everything,
and it is fortunate that we do! Life is too full, and hearts too flexible,
and really sad things too sad, for the survival of sentimental regrets
over changes which do not involve real loss and the wide separation of
death. In time, Clover learned to live without Katy, and to be cheerful
still.

Her cheerfulness was greatly helped by the letters which came regularly,
and showed how contented Katy herself was. She and Ned were having a
beautiful time, first in New York, and making visits near it, then in
Portsmouth and Portland, when the frigate moved on to these harbors, and
in Newport, which was full and gay and amusing to the last degree. Later,
in August, the letters came from Bar Harbor, where Katy had followed, in
company with the commodore's wife, who seemed as nice as her husband; and