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“And they sent her back?”

“Why, yes, certainly–term after term–for two years. You know Mary was always persevering; and so was her mother. And now they have their reward. There is not a girl anywhere who surpasses Mary for scholarship.”

“Truly, they have their reward–infatuated people!” murmured Hasen. “Have they taken any measures to restore her health, Anne?”

“Oh, yes. Mrs. Marvel does not permit her to do any hard work. She does not even let her sweep her own room; they keep a domestic, you know; and, last winter, she had an air-tight stove in her room, and it was kept constantly warm, day and night. The draft was opened early; and Mrs. Marvel let Mary remain in bed as long as she pleased; and, feeling weak, she seldom was inclined to rise before nine or ten.”

“Go on, Anne. What other sanitary measures were pursued?”

“Just such as we all take, when we are ill. She doctors, if she is more unwell than usual; and she rides out almost every pleasant day. There is nothing they won’t do for her. There is no kind of pie or cake, sweetmeat or custard, that Mrs. Marvel does not make to tempt her appetite. If she wants to go to ‘the plain,’ Mr. Marvel harnesses, and drives over. You know, father would think it ridiculous to do it for me.”

“Worse than ridiculous, Anne!–What does the poor girl do? How does she amuse herself?”

“I do believe, Julius, you are interested in Mary Marvel!”

“I am. I was always curious as to the different modes of suicide people adopt. Has she any occupation–any pleasure?”

“Oh, yes; she reads for ever, and studies; she is studying German now.”

“Poor Mary!”

“What in the world makes you pity Mary, Julius?”

“Because, Anne, she hag been deprived of nature’s best gift–defrauded of her inheritance: a sound constitution from temperate, active parents. One may have all the gifts, graces, charms, accomplishments, under Heaven, and, if they have not health, of what use or enjoyment are they? If that little, frail body of Mary Marvel’s contained all that I have enumerated, it would be just the reverse of Pandora’s box–having every good, but one curse that infected all.”

“Dear Julius, I cannot bear to hear you talk so of Mary. I expected you would like her so much. I–I–hoped–. She is so pretty, so Lovely–she is fit for Heaven.”

“She may be, Anne,–I do not doubt it; but she is very unfit for earth. What has her good, devoted, sensible, well-informed mother been about? If Mary had been taught the laws of health, and obeyed them, it would have been worth infinitely more to her than all she has got at your famous boarding-school, Ignorance of these laws is culpable in the mothers–disastrous, fatal to the daughters. It is a disgrace to our people. The young women now coming on, will be as nervous, as weak, as wretched, as their unhappy mothers–languishing embodiments of diseases–mementos of doctors and pill-boxes, dragging out life in air-tight rooms, religiously struggling to perform their duties, and dying before they have half finished the allotted term of life. They have no life–no true enjoyment of life!”

“What a tirade, Julius! Any one would think you were a cross old bachelor!”

“On the contrary, my dear Anne, it is because I am a young bachelor and desire not to be a much older one, that I am so earnest on this subject. I have been travelling now for two months in rail-cars and steamers, and I could fill a medical journal with cases of young women, married and single, whom I have met from town and country, with every ill that flesh is heir to. I have been an involuntary auditor of their charming little confidences of ‘chronic headaches,’ nervous feelings,’ ‘weak-backs,’ ‘neuralgia,’ and Heaven knows what all!”

“Oh, Julius! Julius!”

“It is true, Anne. And their whole care is, gentle and simple, to avoid the air; never to walk when they can ride; never to use cold water when they can get warm; never to eat bread when they can get cake, and so on, and so on, through the chapter. In the matter of eating and drinking, and such little garnitures as smoking and chewing, the men are worse. Fortunately, their occupations save most of them from the invalidism of the women. You think Mary Marvel beautiful?”