leave Hugh
than her mother, but she said: "Miss Johnson, I think, will not leave
mother alone," and so the matter was settled.

It was a terribly long day to Adah, for Mrs. Richards and her daughter
kept their darkened room, seeing no one who called, and appearing
shocked when Adah stole out from their presence, and taking Willie with
her, sought the servants' sitting-room, where the atmosphere was not so
laden with restraint. Once the elder lady rang for Pamelia, asking where
Mrs. Richards was, and looking a little distressed when told she was in
the garden playing with Willie.

"Why, do you want her?" was Pamelia's blunt inquiry, to which her
mistress responded with an aggrieved sigh:

"No-o, only I thought perhaps she was with her dead husband; but, poor
thing, it is not her nature, I presume, to take it much to heart."

Pamelia didn't believe she did "take it much to heart." Indeed, she
didn't see how she could, but she said nothing, and Adah was left to
play with Willie until Alice was announced as being in the
reception-room. She had driven around, she said, to call on Mrs.
Richards, and after that take Adah with her to the cottage, where Anna,
she knew, was anxious to receive her. At first Mrs. Richards demurred,
fearing it would be improper, but saying: "my late son's wife is, of
course, her own mistress, and can do as she likes."

Very adroitly Alice waived all objections, and bore Adah off in triumph.

"I knew you must be lonely up there," she said, as they drove slowly
along, "and there can be no harm in visiting one's sick sister."

Anna surely did not think there was, as her warm, welcoming kisses fully
testified.

"I wanted so much to see you to-day," she said, "that I have worked
myself into quite a fever; but knowing mother as I do, I feared she
might not sanction your coming;" then proudly turning down the blanket,
she disclosed the red-faced baby, who, just one week ago, had come to
the Riverside Cottage.

"Isn't he a beauty?" she asked, pressing her lips upon the wrinkled
forehead. "A boy, too, and looks so much like Charlie, but--" and her
soft, blue eyes seemed more beautiful than ever with the maternal
love-shining for them, "I shall not call him Charlie, nor yet John,
though mother's heart is set on the latter name. I can't. I loved my
brother dearly, and never so much as now that he is dead, but my baby
boy must not bear his name, and so I have chosen Hugh, Hugh Richards. I
know it wil