uplifted hand and gentle hush, Grace saw her mother so stunned and
bewildered that she rejoiced in the fear of cold that had decided
that Rachel alone should spend the evening there. Fanny made some
excuses; she longed to see more of her aunt, but when they were a
little more settled,--and as a fresh shout broke out, she was afraid
they were rather unruly,--she must come and talk to her at the dear
Homestead. So kind of Rachel to stay--not that the boys seemed to
think so, as they went racing in and out, stretching their ship-bound
legs, and taking possession of the minute shrubbery, which they
scorned for the want of gum-trees and parrots.

"You won't mind, Rachel dear, I must first see about baby;" and
Rachel was left to reflect on her mission, while the boys' feet
cantered up and down the house, and one or other of them would look
in, and burst away in search of mamma.

Little more satisfactory was the rest of the evening, for the boys
took a great deal of waiting on at tea, and then some of the party
would not go to sleep in strange beds without long persuasions and
comfortings, till Fanny looked so weary that it was plain that no
conversation could have been hoped from her, even if the baby had
been less vociferous. All that could be done for her was to wish
her good-night, and promise to come down early.

Come early! Yes, Rachel might come, but what was the use of that
when Fanny was at the mercy of so many claimants? She looked much
better than the day before, and her sweet, soft welcome was most
cordial and clinging. "Dear Rachel, it is like a dream to have you
so near. I felt like the old life come back again to hear the surge
of the sea all night, and know I should see you all so soon again."