GLENOWEN,
&e. Sc.

 

CHAP. I.

“©! my dear, sweet mamma!” cried
Charles Evelynn, “‘ how pale and thin
you look to day : when will you be well, .
and get up, and put on your pretty
bonnet, and go out with me and Rosa
to gather violets in the glen, as you’
used to do?”—* Hush, my dear,” said
a good old-woman, who sat in a corner
by the fire, with little Rosa on her
knee, ‘ you will disturb your poor
mamma.”’—“ I would not disturb her

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