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.