ELSIE AT HOME.




CHAPTER I.


The shades of evening were closing in upon a stormy March day; rain and
sleet falling fast while a blustering northeast wind sent them sweeping
across the desolate-looking fields and gardens, and over the wet road
where a hack was lumbering along, drawn by two weary-looking steeds; its
solitary passenger sighing and groaning with impatience over its slow
progress and her own fatigue.

"Driver," she called, "are we ever going to arrive at Fairview?"

"One o' these days, I reckon, ma'am," drawled the man in reply. "It's
been a dreadful tedious ride for you, but a trifle worse for me, seein' I
get a lot more o' the wet out here than you do in thar."

"Yes," she returned in a tone of exasperation, "but I am a weak, ailing
woman and you a big, strong man, used to exertion and exposure." The
sentence ended in a distressing fit of coughing that seemed to shake her
whole frame.

"I'm right sorry fur ye, ma'am," he said, turning a pitying glance upon