"I have no objection, my love," said Mrs. Lindsay, "provided you return
before night."

Henry assured her that they should, Martha respectfully declined the
invitation, and Emma ran up stairs. "I am going," said she joyfully to
the elderly woman with whom she was often seen at church. "I am going,
Dora; and that dear little Mary Palmer is there." Dora arose, and
pinned a thin shawl upon the neck of the delicate girl, and while she
did so, looked affectionately into her white face.

"Of what are you thinking, Dora?" asked Emma.

"I was thinking," said she, "that my lily could shed her fragrance
beyond her own garden to-day."

"O, I am no lily," said Emma, half laughing, "only a poor blighted
thing going out to steal fragrance from other flowers."

"Well, darling," said Dora, "you can have it without theft, for we can
make for ourselves a garden of spices anywhere, and then you know who
will come in and eat our pleasant fruit."

Emma smiled, and nodded a good-by, as she left the room.

"What a singular girl is Emma," said one of the young ladies who looked
from the keeping-room window, as she entered the wagon. "I was glad
that they had the courtesy to offer her a cushioned seat; but she has
refused it, and is riding off upon a box. Dear Mrs. Lindsay, Emma is
excessively polite."