"Oh!" exclaimed Clara. "That 's just what I was going to tell you. It 's the queerest thing about that Matilda; I don't believe there 's any such girl at all. I guess it was nothing but crazy fancies. I asked him this morning if there were not some one he would like to have me write to,—somebody who could come on and stay here with him till he got well; and do you think, the poor fellow said, 'Miss Winthrop, I have n't a near relative in the world,—nothing nearer than a cousin; and I don't know any of my cousins; they all live in Iowa, and I 've never seen one of them. Then I said, 'Well, have n't you some friend that could come? or at any rate that you 'd like to have me write to?' And he said, 'No, I have n't any friend that could come, unless it were a neighbor of mine, Ethan Lovejoy, he might come, but I guess I don't want him. I 'm getting on first rate.' 'Is n't there any woman?' I said. I just was determined to see if there was n't something in it. And he got as red in the face as if I 'd asked him something improper, and said he, 'Any woman! Why I told you I had n't any relative in the world. I had one sister, but she died when I was little. I don't remember her and the only aunt I have lives in Iowa, I told you.' So I gave up then. Is n't it too bad; the poor lonely fellow! I 'm really disappointed, I thought it would be so interesting if that Matilda should come on, and we could see them together. Perhaps there has been something in it, some time or
