in her arms and holding her fast with sobs and tears and kisses. "I had
not heard from you for so long, and have been feeling as if I should
never see you again. And oh, how thin and weak you look! You are sick,
mother!" she added in tones of grief and anxiety, as she drew her into
the hall, where by this time the rest of the family--Grandma Elsie, and
Mr. and Mrs. Leland and their children--were gathered.

"Sister Laura! is it possible! Welcome to Fairview," was Mrs. Leland's
greeting, accompanied by a warm embrace.

"Laura! we did not even know you were in America!" Mr. Leland said,
grasping her hand in brotherly fashion. "And how weary and ill you are
looking! Let me help you off with your bonnet and cloak and to a couch
here in the parlour."

"Thank you; yes, I'll be very glad to lie down, for I'm worn out with my
journey and this troublesome cough," she said, struggling with a renewed
paroxysm and gasping for breath. "But my luggage and----"

"We'll attend to all that," he said, half carrying her to the couch
where his wife and her mother were arranging the pillows for her
comfort, and laying her gently down upon it.

"Oh, mother; my poor dear mother!" sighed Evelyn, as she leaned over
her, smoothing her hair with caressing hand, "it breaks my heart to see
you looking so weary and ill. But we will soon nurse you back to health
and strength--uncle and aunt and I."

"I hope so, indeed," Mrs. Leland said in her sweet, gentle tones. "You
have had most unpleasant weather for your journey, Laura, so that it is