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Book, page 181 / 224 her. Down stairs they discussed in curious tones--not her, but the mistress of the mansion. "Flossy, I do think you are too queer for anything! Why don't you have her go to Katy's room? Katy is away for the night, you know, and I'm sure her room is as neat and pretty as can be. Imagine what a contrast it would be to anything that she has ever seen! Mr. Ried, you ought to see the room into which she has been put. There isn't a more elegant one in the house. Some of its furnishings are so delicate that I hardly like to touch them. What sort of a disease is it that has taken Mrs. Roberts, do you suppose, to send her there? Flossy, she will get no rest to-night; she will be afraid of that immaculate bed."' This, of course, was Gracie Dennis. Mr. Roberts looked from her to his wife,--his face smiling, curious, yet with a sort of at-rest expression. "What do you hope to accomplish, Flossy?" He asked the question as one who was pleased to watch a new experiment, yet felt sure that the experimenter had an end to attain which would justify any measures that she might take. Mr. Roberts had believed in his wife when he chose her from all others; but he was learning to believe in her in a peculiar sense, as one led by a hand that made no mistakes. She turned to answer his question; her face bright, yet half puzzled:-- "I am not sure that I can explain to you what I hoped for," she said; "I caught the idea from Mr. Ried." "From me!" and the young man thus mentioned looked so astonished and incredulous that Gracie laughed. "He is sure he never thought of anything so wild," she said, gayly. "Flossy, you must find a better excuse than that." "Yet it was something that he said. Do you remember telling me, not long ago, about your sister's idea that all the world had lost its place
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