Jabez Brown, Jr., carried on the business in his father's stead, and measured out his sugars and teas at so much advice the pound, and did a thriving business, but the poor old father died all the same.

He was a respectable, honest man, and all his customers attended his funeral in the most neighborly way in the world, with a grim look upon their sympathetic countenances of "I told you so.
It should have been Dr.Dennis." Yes, to all but Phebe, her illness and long imprisonment and her return to matter-of-fact life downstairs, was a tame-enough story now.

But to her it was as the opening chapter of a new history.

Life seemed changed and strange to her when she stepped back into it, and took up again the duties and labors that she had laid by only so lately.

Had she dreamed herself into another world, or why was it so hard to put herself back into the place she had stepped out of?
Everybody about her was the same; nothing had really changed in any way, and certainly she had not.