“I don’t like solid reading,” she returned, with a charming pout.

“One may cultivate a taste for it, I think,” he answered pleasantly.

“But you can’t cultivate what you haven’t got,” she objected.

“True enough,” he said, laughing.  “Well, then, we’ll try to get a little first, and cultivate it carefully afterward.  I must go now, love,” he added, releasing her:  “the men need some directions from me, in regard to their work.”

“And the women some from me,” said Zoe.  “Oh! you needn’t laugh, Ned,” shaking her finger at him, as he turned in the doorway to give her an amused glance:  “perhaps some of these days you’ll find out that I am really an accomplished housewife, capable of giving orders and directions too.”

“No doubt, my dear; for I am already proud of you in that capacity,” he said, throwing her a smiling kiss, then hurrying away.

Zoe summoned Aunt Dicey, the housekeeper, gave her orders for the day, and the needed supplies from pantry and storeroom, they went to the sewing-room, to give some directions to Christine and Alma.

She lingered there for a little, trying on a morning-dress they were making for her, then repaired to her boudoir, intent upon beginning her studies, which had been rather neglected of late, in the excitement of the preparations for the departure of the greater part of the family for a winter at Viamede.

But she had scarcely taken out her books, when the sound of wheels on the avenue attracted her attention; and glancing from the window, she saw the Roselands carriage draw up at the front entrance, and Ella Conly alight from it, and run up the veranda steps.

“There, I’ll not do much studying to-day, I’m afraid,” said Zoe, half aloud; “for, even if it’s only a call she has come for, she’ll not leave under an hour.”

She hastily replaced the books in the drawer from which she had taken them,—­for she had a feeling, only half acknowledged even to herself, of repugnance to having Ella know of her studies,—­Ella, who had graduated from boarding-school, and evidently felt herself thoroughly educated,—­and hurried down to meet and welcome her guest.

“I told Cal and Art, I thought you’d be sure to feel dreadfully lonely to-day, after seeing everybody but Ned start off on a long journey, and so I’d come and spend the day with you,” said Ella, when the two had exchanged kisses, and inquiries after each other’s health.

“It was very kind and thoughtful in you,” returned Zoe, leading the way into the parlor usually occupied by the family, where an open wood fire blazed cheerily on the hearth.

“Take this easy-chair, won’t you?” she said, wheeling it a little nearer the grate; “and Dinah shall carry away your wraps when it suits you to doff them.  I wish cousins Cal and Art would invite themselves to dine with us too.”

“Art’s very busy just now,” said Ella:  “there’s a good deal of sickness, and I don’t believe he’s spent a whole night at home for the last week or more.”