passenger stepped down. "Isn't he goin' to come?"

The tears were beginning to gather in her eyes, when she saw him in the
door of the car; not hurrying along to meet them as he always used to
come, so full of life and vigour, but leaning heavily on the porter's
shoulder, looking very pale and weak.

Lloyd looked up at her mother, from whose face every particle of colour
had faded. Mrs. Sherman gave a low, frightened cry as she sprang forward
to meet him. "Oh, Jack! what is the matter? What has happened to you?"
she exclaimed, as he took her in his arms. The train had gone on, and
they were left alone on the platform.

"Just a little sick spell," he answered, with a smile. "We had a fire
out at the mines, and I overtaxed myself some. I've had fever ever
since, and it has pulled me down considerably."

"I must send somebody for a carriage," she said, looking around
anxiously.

"No, indeed," he protested. "It's only a few steps; I can walk it
as well as not. The sight of you and the baby has made me stronger
already."

He sent a coloured boy on ahead with his valise, and they walked slowly
up the path, with Fritz running wildly around them, barking a glad
welcome.

"How sweet and homelike it all looks!" he said, as he stepped into the
hall, where Mom Beck was just lighting the lamps. Then he sank down on