But he stuck it out, at the
minister's house, and walked home by his-self to finish his chill."
"And you didn't go with him?" cried Euphemia, indignantly.
"He said, no. It was better thus. He felt it weren't the right
thing to mingle the agur with his marriage vows. He promised to
take sixteen grains to-morrow, and so I came away. He'll be all
right in a month or so, an' then we'll go an' keep house. You see
it aint likely I could help him any by goin' there an' gettin' it
myself."
"Pomona," said Euphemia, "this is dreadful. You ought to go and
take a bridal tour and get him rid of those fearful chills."
"I never thought of that," said Pomona, her face lighting up
wonderfully.
Now that Euphemia had fallen upon this happy idea, she never
dropped it until she had made all the necessary plans, and had put
them into execution. In the course of a week she had engaged
another servant, and had started Pomona and her husband off on a
bridal-tour, stipulating nothing but that they should take plenty
of quinine in their trunk.
It was about three weeks after this, and Euphemia and I were
sitting on our front steps,--I had come home early, and we had been
potting some of the tenderest plants,--when Pomona walked in at the
gate. She looked well, and had on a very bright new dress.
Euphemia noticed this the moment she came in. We welcomed her
warmly, for we felt a great interest in this girl, who had grown up
in our family and under our care.
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