e and Mrs. Keith following to see her comfortably
established upon a couch, where they left her to take her rest.

The others scattered in various directions, as inclination dictated.

Elsie and Annis sought the grounds, and, taking possession of a rustic
seat beneath a spreading tree, had a long, quiet talk, recalling
incidents of other days, and exchanging mutual confidences.

"What changes we have passed through since our first acquaintance !"
exclaimed Annis. "What careless, happy children we were then!"

"And what happy women we are now!" added Elsie, with a joyous smile.

"Yes; and you a grandmother! I hardly know how to believe it! You seem
wonderfully young for that."

"Do I?" laughed Elsie. "I acknowledge that I feel young--that I have
never yet been able to reason myself into feeling old."

"Don't try; keep young as long as ever you can," was Annis's advice.

"It is what you seem to be doing," said Elsie, sportively, and with an
admiring look at her cousin. "Dear Annis, may I ask why it is you have
never married? It must certainly have been your own fault."

"Really, I hardly know what reply to make to that last remark," returned
Annis, in her sprightly way. "But I have not the slightest objection to
answering your question. I will tell 'the truth, the whole truth, and
nothing but the truth.' I have had friends and admirers among the
members of the other sex, but have never yet seen the man for love of
whom I could for a moment think of leaving father and mother."

"How fortunate for them!" Elsie said, with earnest sincerity. "I know
they must esteem it a great blessing that they have been able to keep
one dear daughter in the old home."

"And I esteem myself blest indeed in having had my dear father and
mother spared to me all these years," Annis said, with feeling. "What a
privilege it is, Elsie, to be permitted to smooth, some of the
roughnesses from their pathway now in their declining years; to make
life even a trifle easier and happier than it might otherwise be to
them--the dear parents who so tenderly watched over me in infancy and
youth! I know you can appreciate it--you who love your father so
devotedly.

"But Cousin Horace is still a comparatively young man, hale and hearty,
and to all appearance likely to live many years, while my parents are
aged and infirm, and I cannot hope to keep them long." Her voice was
husky with emotion as she concluded.

"Dear Annis," Elsie said, pressing te