sooner."

"Yes, and she has been very ill; she always is, I believe, but there
is very little about it. Fanny never could write letters; she only
just says: 'I have not been able to attempt a letter sooner, though
my dear little girl is five weeks old to-day. Think of the daughter
coming at last, too late for her dear father, who had so wished for
one. She is very healthy, I am thankful to say; and I am now so much
better, that the doctor says I may sail next week. Major Keith has
taken our cabins, in the Voluta, and soon after you receive this, I
hope to be showing you my dear boys. They are such good,
affectionate fellows; but I am afraid they would be too much for my
dear aunt, and our party is so large, so the Major and I both think
it will be the best way for you to take a house for me for six
months. I should like Myrtlewood best, if it is to be had. I have
told Conrade all about it, and how pretty it is, and it is so near
you that I think there I can be happy as ever I can be again in this
world, and have your advice for the dear children.'"

"Poor darling! she seems but a child herself."

"My age--five and twenty," returned Rachel. "Well I shall go and
ask about the house. Remember, mother, this influx is to bring no
trouble or care on you; Fanny Temple is my charge from henceforth.
My mission has come to seek me," she added as she quitted the room,
in eager excitement of affection, emotion, and importance, for Fanny
had been more like a sister than a cousin.

Grace and Rachel Curtis were the daughters of the squire of the
Homestead; Fanny, of his brother, an officer in the army. Left at