books and toys we want to take with us."

The three ran off together in high glee. The ladies stayed a little
longer, deep in consultation about necessary arrangements which must
fall to their share: then dispersed to their several apartments, with
the exception of Violet, who, forbidden to exert herself, remained where
she was till joined by her husband, when he had finished and despatched
his letter. It was great happiness to them to be together after their
long separation.

Mr. Dinsmore and Edward had walked out into the avenue, and were seated
under a tree in earnest conversation.

"Talking tiresome business, I suppose," remarked Zoe, in a half-petulant
tone, glancing toward them as she spoke, and apparently addressing
Violet, as she was the only other person on the veranda at the moment.

"Yes, no doubt; but we must have patience with them, dear, because it
is very necessary," Violet answered, with a smile. "Probably they are
discussing the question how the plantation is to be attended to in their
absence. You know it won't take care of itself, and the men must have a
head to direct their labors."

"Oh yes, of course; and for that reason Ned is kept ever so busy while
we are here, and I do think it will be delightful to get away to the
seashore with him, where there will be nothing to do but enjoy
ourselves."

Zoe skipped away with the last word, ran up to her room, and began
turning over the contents of bureau drawers and taking garments from
wardrobes and closets, with the view of selecting such as she might deem
it desirable to carry with her on the contemplated trip.

She was humming softly a snatch of lively song, feeling very gay and
light-hearted, when, coming across a gray travelling-dress a little
worse for the wear, her song suddenly ceased, while tears gathered in
her eyes, then began to fall drop by drop as she stood gazing down, upon
this relic of former days.

"Just one year ago," she murmured. "Papa, papa! I never thought I could
live a whole year without you; and be happy, too! Ah, that seems
ungrateful, when you were so, so good to me! But no; I am sure you would
rather have me happy; and it would be ungrateful to my dear husband if I
were not."

She put the dress aside, wiped away her tears, and took down another.
It was a dark woollen dress. She had travelled home in it the previous
fall, and had worn it once since on a very memorable occasion; her cheek
crimsoned at the recollection