CHAPTER XVI.
PARTING AN ANCHOR.
Cornelia, upon her arrival in New York, had been met at the station by an emissary of Aunt Margaret, and conducted to a country-seat some distance up the river.

Four or five young ladies were already assembled there, and as many young gentlemen came up on afternoon trains, and availed themselves of Aunt Margaret's hospitality, until business called them to the city again the nest morning, except that on Saturdays they brought an extra change or two of raiment, to tide them over the blessed rest of Sunday.
"I've been so _ill_, my love--how sweet and fresh you _do_ look! Give your auntie a kiss--there.

_Oh_! you naughty girl, how jealous all the girls will be of those _eyes_ of yours!--so ill--_such_ dreadful sick-headaches--oh, yes! I'm a _great_ sufferer, dear, a great _sufferer_--but no one, hardly, knows it.

I tell _you_, you know, dear, because you are my own darling little Cornelia.

Oh! those sweet _eyes_! So ill--so _unable_, you know, to be _up_ and _doing_--to be as I should wish to be--as I once _was_--as you are now, you--splendid--creature--you! Now you _must_ let me speak my heart out to you, dear; it's my nature to do it, and I _can't_ restrain, it--foolish I know, but I always _was_ so foolish! oh dear! well--Ah! there's the first bell already.