Ida, who was expecting her father, aunt and cousin to be present at the anniversary, was so engrossed with her studies, that she did not observe how sad and low spirited Mary seemed.

She had tasted of knowledge, and now thirsted for more; but it could not be; the funds were exhausted, and she must leave the school, never perhaps to return again.
"How much I shall miss my music, and how much I shall miss you," she said one day to Ida, who was giving her a lesson.
"It's too bad you haven't a piano," returned Ida, "you are so fond of it, and improve so fast!" then after a moment she added, "I have a plan to propose, and may as well do it now as any time.

Next winter you must spend with me in Boston.

Aunt Martha and I arranged it the last time I was at home, and we even selected your room, which is next to mine, and opposite to Aunt Martha's.

Now what does your ladyship say to it ?" "She says she can't go," answered Mary.
"Can't go!" repeated Ida.