leading to the fine old dwelling of the Carringtons.

"How kind, how very kind, to come so soon!" was Mrs. Carrington's cordial,
joyful salutation. "Mr. Dinsmore, I owe you a thousand thanks for not only
permitting your daughter to come, but bringing her yourself."

"You are very welcome, my dear madam," he answered courteously; "and,
indeed, I should like to see Mrs. Rose myself, when she is well enough and
feels that it will be agreeable to her."

A few moments' chat in the drawing-room, and Mr. Dinsmore drew out his
watch. "How long a talk do you want with your friend to-day, Elsie?" he
asked.

"Oh, just as long as I can be allowed, papa!" she cried, with much of the
old childish eagerness.

"Then the sooner you begin, the better, I think, for we ought to be on our
way to Roselands in an hour, or an hour and a quarter at the farthest."

Upon that the gentlemen retired to the library to talk over business
matters, and Mrs. Carrington led the way for Elsie to Lucy's room. But
pausing in the upper hall, she took the young girl in her arms, folding
her in a close, loving embrace, and heaping upon her tearful, tender,
silent caresses.

"My poor boy! my poor dear Herbert," she murmured at length, as she
released her hold. "Darling, I can never forget that you might have been
my daughter. But there--I will leave you. Lucy occupies her old rooms, and
yonder is her door; you know the way."