"Oh, yes! well enough," replied Elsie. "It's only this horrid heat,
and never going away to where it's cooler. I keep thinking about the
country, and wishing I were there feeling the wind blow. I wonder
if papa wouldn't let John and me go to Conic Section, and see Mrs.
Worrett. Do you think he would, if you asked him?"

"But," said Katy, amazed, "Conic Section isn't exactly country, you
know. It is just out of the city,--only six miles from here. And
Mrs. Worrett's house is close to the road, papa said. Do you think
you'd like it, dear? It _can't_ be very much cooler than this."

"Oh, yes! it can," rejoined Elsie, in a tone which was a little fretful.
"It's _always_ cooler on a farm. There's more room for the wind, and--
oh, every thing's pleasanter! You can't think how tired I am of this
hot house. Last night I hardly slept at all; and, when I did, I
dreamed that I was a loaf of brown bread, and Debby was putting me
into the oven to bake. It was a horrid dream. I was so glad to wake
up. Won't you ask papa if we may go, Katy?"

"Why, of course I will, if you wish it so much. Only"--Katy stopped
and did not finish her sentence. A vision of fat Mrs. Worrett had
risen before her, and she could not help doubting if Elsie would find
the farm as pleasant as she expected. But sometimes the truest
kindness is in giving people their own unwise way, and Elsie's eyes
looked so wistful that Katy had no heart to argue or refuse.

Dr. Carr looked doubtful when the plan was proposed to him.

"It's too hot," he said. "I don't believe the girls will like it."