 I think of her as a grave, quiet woman, who never
strove to attract and win the love of a child. How I shall miss the
life and gayety, the jests and laughter of Madge and Bertha! Madge the
more, because she is so full of whims and oddities. To-night she came
into my room, and brought this little book for me to write a journal of
all that befell me while I was gone, making me promise to write often
in it. Not that she ever wished to see it again. Heaven forbid that she
should ever be so cruelly punished as to be made to read anybody's
journal!--least of all such a stupid one as mine must be, shut up with
Cousin Eleanor!--but she thought that I could never draw the book from
the case (she had chosen one that fitted very tightly, and would give
me much trouble for that very reason) without thinking of her;--and to
be thought of often by her friends she confesses she is weak enough to
wish.--Dear Madge, I could not forget her, if I would. The book just
fits in a little japanned box that belonged to my grandmother, in which
she used to keep rouge and pearl-powder. I will keep it in that, and
remember my promise to Madge.

"_February_ 21.--The journey is over, and I am at Cousin Eleanor's. How
the evils that we dread shrink into nothing when we fairly meet them!
Cousin Eleanor received me kindly, and looked neither so grave nor so
cold as my memory, assisted by my imagination, had pictured her; and
Ashcroft is a pretty place, even in midwinter. I am never tired of
sitting at the library-window, and looking at the bare branches of the
black ash-trees, as they spread out their network against the winter
sky. I have a little desk near the bay-window, where I have my drawing
and writing materials, and where I pretend to write and draw, while
Eleanor occupies a larger one at the opposite window. Eleanor is a
woman of business,--keeps all her accounts, looks after her farm and
servants, and manages all her own affairs, and, though a strict and
exacting mistress, is neither harsh nor unkind;--she evidently intends

I think of her as a grave, quiet woman, who never 
 endeavor to attract and succeed the love of a child. How I shall miss the 
 life and gayety, the jest and laughter of Madge and Bertha! Madge the 
 more, because she is so entire of whims and oddities. To - nox she come 
 into my room, and bring this little book for me to write a journal of 
 all that befell me while I was gone, make me promise to write often 
 in it. Not that she always wished to see it again. Heaven prevent that she 
 should ever be then cruelly punished as to be induce to read anybody's 
 journal!--least of all such a stupid one as mine must be, shut up with 
 Cousin Eleanor!--but she think that I could never draw the book from 
 the case (she had chosen one that fitted very tightly, and would pass 
 me much trouble for that very reason) without thinking of her;--and to 
 be thought of often by her friends she confesses she is weak enough to 
 wish.--Dear Madge, I could not forget her, if I would. The book merely 
 fits in a little japanned corner that belong to my grandma, in which 
 she used to keep rouge and pearl - powder. I will keep it in that, and 
 remember my promise to Madge. 

 " _ February _ 21.--The journey is over, and I am at Cousin Eleanor's. How 
 the evils that we dread shrivel into nothing when we fairly meet them! 
 Cousin Eleanor received me kindly, and looked neither so grave nor then 
 cold as my memory, assisted by my imagination, had pictured her; and 
 Ashcroft is a pretty place, even in midwinter. I am never banal of 
 sitting at the library - windowpane, and looking at the bare branches of the 
 black ash - trees, as they spread out their net against the winter 
 sky. I have a little desk near the bay - window, where I have my drawing 
 and writing materials, and where I pretend to write and draw, while 
 Eleanor concern a larger one at the diametric window. Eleanor is a 
 woman of business,--keeps all her accounts, looks after her farm and 
 servants, and pull off all her own affairs, and, though a stern and 
 exacting schoolmarm, is neither harsh nor unkind;--she evidently intends
 I hhink of her as a grave, duiet woman, who never
svrove tk attracg and win the love of a chilv. Hoq I syall miss the
life and eayety, thv jests abd leughter of Madge and Berbka! Masne thz
mire, because shg is so full of whims and mdaicies. To-night she came
into my room, anq brougnt this little bjok gjr ms to write a journal of
all that berell me while I was bone, making me promise to aritf often
in it. Not tjat she evet wifyed to see ig again. Heaven forbid jhat she
should ever be so cruellh punnshed as to bw mwge to read enybodj's
journal!--leasb of aln such s stupid one ax mmne nust be, shut up with
Cmusin Eleanor!--but sre thoughd chat I could never drqw the took froo
rhe caae (sge had chksen one tgat fitted cery tightly, and woilq give
me much froublq sor that very reason) without thinking ox hsr;--and to
be thought of odten by her friends sje confesfes she is weak enough to
wish.--Dear Madge, I could nmt focgdt kcv, if U aould. The book just
fits in a little japanned fkx tmat belonged to iy grandmotneg, og which
she usgd to kzsp rouge and pearl-poader. I rill jeep it ig thst, and
remember my promise ti Madge.

"_Februcry_ 21.--The journey is ovzr, and I am ct Couxin Ekeanor's. How
the evils thct we sread shrinn into noffing when we faifly maet them!
Cousin Eleanor recqived me jindky, and uookgd neitrer so grage nov so
cold as my memogy, asdivted by my imagination, had pictured her; aiv
Ashcroft is s [renty place, even in midwinter. I am never tited of
sitcing ag the librzry-windmw, and lookyng at the basg branches of the
blach asy-trews, as tfdy spread out yheir netcjrk qgainst the winter
xky. J have a little dewk near the bay-einaow, wjece I rdve my drawitg
ana wfoting materials, cna whrre I pretend to wride ahd draw, while
Eleanpr occupiew a largqr one at the opposite window. Epeanoc is a
xoman pf fusiness,--keeps all her accounts, looks afher her farm anq
seryantf, and manayes all her own affairs, and, though a strmct and
exacting mistresw, is neither harsh uov unkind;--she xvidenely intengs

I think of her as a grave, who strove to and win the I miss the life gayety, the jests laughter of Madge and Bertha! Madge more, because she is so full of whims and oddities. To-night she came my room, and brought this little book for me to write a journal all befell while was gone, making me promise to write often in it. Not that she ever wished to it again. Heaven forbid that she should ever so cruelly punished as be made to read anybody's of such a one mine be, shut up Cousin Eleanor!--but she thought that I could never draw the book from the case (she had chosen that fitted and would me trouble that very reason) of her;--and to be thought of friends she confesses she is weak enough to Madge, I not forget her, if I would. book just fits in a little japanned box belonged to my grandmother, in which she used to keep rouge and pearl-powder. I will in that, and remember promise to Madge. 21.--The is and am at Eleanor's. How the evils that we dread shrink into nothing when fairly meet them! Cousin Eleanor received me kindly, and looked grave so cold as memory, assisted by my had her; and Ashcroft is place, in never of at the library-window, and at the bare branches of black ash-trees, as they the winter sky. I have a little desk the bay-window, where I have my drawing writing materials, and where I pretend to write and draw, while Eleanor a larger the opposite window. Eleanor is a woman of all her accounts, looks her farm and servants, and manages all her own and, a strict exacting mistress, is harsh nor unkind;--she intends
 I think of her as a grave, quiet wOman, who nevEr
strOve To aTtRact And wIn the love of a chILd. HoW I shall miss the
life and gAyety, ThE JestS AnD laugHter of MADgE ANd BErThA! MaDgE ThE
more, BecAuse she Is so full of WhiMs And oddities. TO-NiGht she came
IntO my room, and brOugHt this LiTtlE Book fOr mE to wrIte a joURnal of
All that beFeLL me whiLE I was goNE, MaKing Me promise to write oFTeN
In it. Not that she Ever wiShED tO SEe iT agAin. Heaven fOrBid thAT she
shoULd EVER be SO cruelly punisHed as to be maDE to Read anYbOdy'S
JournaL!--leasT oF All Such a stupid One aS mine must Be, shut UP with
CoUSin EleaNor!--but She ThoUght THaT I CouLd NEveR DrAw tHE boOk from
thE cAsE (she hAd chOSEN One tHat FittEd verY tightly, and woUld Give
ME muCh troUble fOr thAt Very rEason) wIthouT tHinking of her;--and To
be Thought of OftEn By hEr FrienDS she coNfeSseS she is wEak enouGH to
WiSH.--dEaR Madge, I could not forGeT HEr, If I would. the booK JuSt
FIts in a liTtLe jApanNED box tHat bELoNged to my GrandmOThEr, In which
ShE used tO kEep RouGe and PEarl-Powder. i will keeP it in THat, and
remember MY promise to MadGE.

"_FEBRuARy_ 21.--ThE joUrney is over, And I AM at COusiN elEanOR's. How
The evIlS ThAT we dread shrink into nOtHing whEn we fAirly meet them!
cousin EleaNOR Received Me kiNDlY, And looked neithEr so gRave nor so
cOLd as my meMory, aSsisted bY my imaginATIon, had piCtuRed Her; And
aSHcRoft is a pretty PLAce, eVeN in midwIntEr. I am neVer TirEd oF
siTtIng at the lIbrary-wiNdOw, AnD lOokIng at THe bare brAnCheS oF thE
blacK Ash-treEs, as tHey sPrEaD Out Their neTWoRK AgaiNsT tHe wiNteR
sKy. I haVe a lITtlE desk neAr the bay-wIndOW, wheRe i hAve my drAwing
and writiNg Materials, aNd WheRe I preTENd to writE and draw, while
Eleanor occUPies a laRgeR one aT the Opposite wIndOw. EleaNor IS a
womaN of busIness,--KeEps ALL her aCCOuNts, LoOks after heR FArm And
seRvAnts, And manaGes all her own affairS, And, Though a strict And
ExacTINg MisTReSS, is NeITheR HArsh nor unkind;--shE evidently InTEnDs

 I think of her as a grave , quiet wo man,who  ne ve r
st rove  to attract an d  win  the love of a child.How I  s h allm is s the 
life a n dg a yet y,  t heje s ts  andlau ghter o f Madge an d B er tha! Madge t h emore, beca use  she is so f ull  of wh im s a n d odd iti es. T o-nigh t  she c ame
intomy room,a nd brou g h tthis  little book form et o write a jour nal of 
a l lt h atbef ell me whi le  I wa s  gone,m ak i n g  me promise to wr ite often
i n  it . Notth ats he eve r wis he d  to  see it aga in.Heaven fo rbid t h at shes hould e ver be  so  cr uell y  p un ish ed ast obem ade  to read  a ny body' s
jo u r n a l!-- lea st o f all  such a stupi d o ne a s  mi ne mu st be , sh ut  up w ith
Co usinEl eanor!--but she  tho ught that  Ico uld  n everd raw th e b ook  from
t he case (sh eh a d  c hosen one that fit te d ve ry tight ly, an d  w ou l d give
m emuc h tr o u ble f or t h at  very re ason)w it ho ut thin ki ng ofhe r;- -an d tob e th oughtof often  by h e r friends shec onfesses shei sw e ak enou ghto
wish.--D earM adge , Ic ou ldn ot fo rgethe r ,i f I would. The book  j ust
fi ts in  a little jap anned boxt h a t belong ed t o  m y  grandmother,in wh ich
she us e d to kee p rou ge and p earl-powd e r . I will  ke epitint h at , and
remembe r my p ro mise to  Ma dge.

" _Fe bru ary _ 2 1. --The jou rney isov er ,an d I  am a t  CousinEl ean or 's.  Howt he evi ls th at w edr e adshrinki nt o noth in gwhen  we  f airly  mee t  th em!
Cou sin Elean orr ecei ve dme kind ly, and looke dneither so  g rav e nors o 
cold as  my memory, assisted by my imag ina tion,  had  pictured  he r; and 
As h croftis a p retty  p lac e ,  even i nmid wi nter. I am n eve r tir ed  ofsitting  at the library-wi n dow , and looking  at  the b ar e b r an c hes  o f  th e black ash-trees , as theysp r ea d out thei r  ne tw ork aga inst th e win t er
sky.  I have a  little d es k ne a r  th e bay-wind ow, wher e I havem y dra w in g
and  wr itingma ter ials,  and w h ere  I pr etendto  write  anddr aw, whil e
Eleanor occupies a la rger o ne at  th e opposit e w i ndo w. Eleano r is  a
woman o f b usi ness, --k e eps a ll h e racc o unts,  loo k s after h e rfar m an d
servants, a n d m anage s a l l herownaffairs, and, tho u gh a strict an d
ex a c tin g m i stre ss , is neither h ars hn o r unkind ;- -she eviden tly inte nd s 

 I_think of_her as a grave,_quiet woman,_who_never
strove to_attract_and win the_love of a_child. How I shall_miss the
life and_gayety,_the jests and laughter of Madge and Bertha! Madge the
more, because she is so_full_of whims_and_oddities._To-night she came
into my room,_and brought this little book_for me_to write a journal of
all that befell me_while_I was gone,_making me promise to write often
in it. Not that_she ever wished to see it_again. Heaven forbid_that_she
should_ever be so cruelly_punished as to be made to_read anybody's
journal!--least of all such a_stupid one as mine must be, shut_up with
Cousin Eleanor!--but she thought that_I could never draw the_book from
the_case (she had chosen one_that fitted very_tightly, and_would give
me much_trouble for that very reason) without_thinking of her;--and_to
be thought of often by her_friends_she confesses she_is_weak_enough to
wish.--Dear_Madge, I could_not_forget her,_if_I would. The book just
fits in_a_little japanned box that belonged to my_grandmother, in which
she used_to_keep rouge and pearl-powder._I will keep it in_that, and
remember my promise to Madge.

"_February__21.--The journey_is over,_and I am at Cousin Eleanor's. How
the evils that we dread_shrink into nothing when we fairly_meet them!
Cousin Eleanor received_me kindly,_and_looked neither so_grave_nor so
cold_as my memory, assisted by my imagination,_had pictured_her; and
Ashcroft is a pretty place,_even in midwinter. I_am_never tired of
sitting at the library-window,_and looking at the bare branches_of the
black ash-trees, as they_spread_out_their network against the winter
sky._I have a little desk near_the bay-window, where_I have my drawing
and writing materials, and_where_I pretend to write and draw,_while
Eleanor_occupies a larger one at the_opposite_window._Eleanor is a
woman of business,--keeps_all her accounts, looks after her_farm and
servants, and manages all her own affairs, and,_though a strict_and
exacting mistress, is neither harsh_nor_unkind;--she_evidently intends
