168 THE COUSINS.

trembling with an emotion that she could scarcely
forbear manifesting by tears.

“Why did you not go with them?” he asked.

Mary turned away her head, and passed her
hand over her eyes as she answered, in a very
unsteady voice, “I stayed to write my composi-
tion.”’

“And how much have you written?”

This question was more than Mary could bear,
and, abandoning all effort at self-control, she sob-
bed out, ‘“‘I have not written any at all, and I
don’t think I ever shall write any about the
pleasures of home. I don’t know what to say.”

“Don’t know what to say! Have you forgotten
already all you used to tell us last winter of the
pleasures of your home in Georgia.”

“No, I have not forgotten any of it, Uncle
Lovett, but—’ Mary paused, and looked per-
plexed.

“But what? Speak on, Mary. Tell me why
you cannot write what you have so often said.”

“T never talked about the pleasures of home,
Uncle Lovett; I only told you what I did when
I was there.”