"Mamma," said Isa again, when they had sat for some minutes in
silence over their work.

"Well, my love?"

"Have you spoken to Uncle Hatto about this?"

"No, dear; not since that day when your papa and I first went to
him. To tell the truth, I am almost afraid to speak to him; but, if
you wish it, I will do so."

"I do wish it, mamma. But you must not think that I am discontented
or impatient. I do not know that I have any right to ask my uncle
for his money;--for it comes to that."

"I suppose it does, my dear."

"And as for myself, I am happy here with you and papa. I do not
think so much of these four years."

"You would still be young, Isa;--quite young enough."

"And what if I were not young? What does it matter? But, mamma,
there has been that between Herbert and me which makes me feel
myself bound to think of him. As you and papa have sanctioned it,
you are bound to think of him also. I know that he is unhappy,
living there all alone."

"But why did he go, dear?"