Is every one sad and unhappy, I wonder?
Oh, Lillian, I long to see the world--the bright, gay world--over the sea there.

I long for it as an imprisoned bird longs for fresh air and green woods." "You would not find it all happiness," said Lillian, sagely.
"Spare me all truism," cried Beatrice.

"Ah, sister, I am tired of all this; for eleven years the sea has been singing the same songs; those waves rise and fall as they did a hundred years since; the birds sing the same story; the sun shines the same; even the shadow of the great elms fall over the meadow just as it did when we first played there.

I long to away from the sound of the sea and the rustling of the elm trees.

I want to be where there are girls of my own age, and do as they do.