the stairs, the door hastily opened for a moment, and two rough-
headed, dusty little figures were seen for one moment, startling Mrs.
Brownlow with the notion of little beggars; but they vanished in a
moment, and were heard chattering up stairs with calls of "Mother!
Mother Carey!" And looking out, they beheld at the top of the stairs
the two little fellows hanging one on each side of Carey, who was
just outside her door, with her hair down, in her white dressing
gown, kneeling between them, all the three almost devouring one
another.

"Jockie! Armie! my dears! How did you come? Where are the rest?"

"Still at Kyve," said Jock. "Mother we have done such a thing-—we
came to tell you of it."

"We've lost the man's boat," added Armine, "and we must give him the
money for another."

"What is it? What is it, Caroline?" began her sister-in-law; but
Mrs. Lucas touched her arm, and as a mother herself, she saw that
mother and sons had best be left to one another, and let them retreat
into the bedroom, Carey eagerly scanning her two little boys, who had
a battered, worn, unwashed look that puzzled her as much as their
sudden appearance, which indeed chimed in with the strange dreamy
state in which she had lived ever since that telegram. But their
voices did more to restore her to ordinary life than anything else
could have done; and their hearts were so full of their own
adventure, that they poured it out before remarking anything,—-

"How did you come, my dear boys?"