erself to death, Lady Adela said--

'My dear, sitting still would be worse for her. However it may turn out,
fatigue will be best for her.'

'Surely it can't mean anything else!' cried Constance.

'I don't see how it can. Your uncle weighs his words too much to raise
false hopes.'

So, dark as it was by the time the train was expected, Adela promoted the
ordering a carriage, and went herself with the trembling Mary to the
station, not without restoratives in her bag, in case of, she knew not
what. Not a word was spoken, but hands were clasped and hearts were
uplifted in an agony of supplication, as the two sat in the dark on the
drive to the station. Of course they were too soon, but the driver
manoeuvred so as to give them a full view of the exit--and then came that
minute of indescribable suspense when the sounds of arrival were heard,
and figures began to issue from the platform.

It was not long--thanks to freedom from luggage--before there came into
full light a well-known form, with a little half-awake boy holding his
hand.

Then Adela quietly let herself out of the brougham, and in another moment
her clasping hand and swimming eyes had marked her greeting. She pointed
to the open door and the white face in it, and in one moment more a pair
of arms had closed upon Michael, and with a dreamy murmur, 'Mam-mam,
mam-ma,' the curly head was on her bosom, the precious weight on her lap,
her husband by her side, the door had closed on them, they were driving
away.

'Oh! is it real? Is he well?'

'Perfectly well! Only sleepy. Strong, grown, well cared for.'

'My boy, my boy,' and she felt him all over, gazed at the rosy face
whenever a tantalising flash of lamplight permitted, then kissed and
kissed, till the boy awoke more fully, with another 'Mamma! Mamma,'
putting his hand to feel for her chain, as if to identify her. Then with
a coo of content, 'Mite has papa and mamma,' and he seemed under the
necessity of feeling them both.

Only at their own door did those happy people even recollect Lady Adela,
with shame and dismay, which did not last long, for she came on them,
laughing with pleasure, and saying it was just what she had intended,
while Mite was recognising his Amy and his Conny, and being nearly
devoured by them.

He still was rather confused by the strange house. 'It's not home,' he
said, staring round, and blinking at the lights; 'and where's my big
horse?'

'You shall soon go home to