his greetings of Philip had
usually been, his mother was pleased to see. Jem made a pretence of
astonishment at the sight of him, meaning that he might very well have
come to see his mother sooner; but David fell into eager discussion of
some matter interesting to both, and then Jem went away to beautify
himself, as he called the washing off the marks of his day's work. When
tea-time came, Philip hesitated about accepting Mrs Inglis's invitation
to remain.

"You may as well," said Ned; "for I saw Violet up-town and I told her
you were here, so they will be sure not to wait."

So he staid, and made good his place among them after his long absence.

Something had been said in the early spring about Mrs Inglis and the
children going to spend the summer in Gourlay again. But there was not
the same necessity for a change that there had been last year, and the
matter was not at once decided. While Mrs Inglis hesitated, there came
tidings that decided it for her. There came, from Miss Bethia, a
letter, written evidently with labour and difficulty. She had been
poorly, "off and on by spells," she said, all winter; and now, what she
had long feared, had become evident to all her friends. A terrible and
painful disease had fastened upon her, which must sooner or later prove
fatal. "Later," she feared it might be; for, through long months, which
grew into years before they were over, she had nursed her mother in the
same disease, praying daily that the end might come.

"I am not afraid of the end," she wrote; "but remembering my poor
mother's sufferings, I _am_ afraid of what must come before the end. It
would help pass the time to have you and the children here this summer;
but it might not be the best thing for them or you, and you must judge.
I should like to see David, but there will be time enough, for I am
afraid the end is a long way off. I am a poor creetur not to feel that
the Lord knows best what I can bear. It don't seem as though I could
suffer much more than I used to, seeing my mother's suffering. And I
_know_ the Lord is kind and pitiful, though I sometimes forget."

Mrs Inglis's answer to this letter was to go to Gourlay without loss of
time. At the first sight of Miss Bethia, she did not think her so very
ill. She thought her fears had magnified her danger to herself. But
she changed her opinion when she had been there a day or two. The Angel
of Death was drawing near, and all that made his co