her hands, and danced for joy
when she saw the white chimneys and vine-covered porches of "Greylston
Cottage."

"Annie! Annie!" but she only laughed, and gathering up the folds of
her travelling dress, managed to get so quickly and skilfully over the
fence, that her brother, who was unfastening the gate, looked at her in
perfect amazement.

"What in the world," he asked, with a smile on his grave face,
"possessed you to get over the fence in that monkey fashion? All those
people looking at you, too. For shame, Annie! Will you never be done
with those childish capers?"

"Yes, maybe when I am a gray-haired old woman; not before. Don't scold
now, Richard; you know very well you, and the passengers beside, would
give your ears to climb a fence as gracefully as I did just now. There,
won't you hand me my basket, please?"

He did so, and then, with a gentle smile, took the white, ungloved
fingers in his.

"My darling Annie, remember"--

"Stage waits," cried the driver.

So Richard Bermon's lecture was cut short; he had only time to bid his
merry young sister good-bye. Soon he was lost to sight.

Annie Bermon hurried down the lane, swinging her light willow basket
carelessly on her arm, and humming a joyous air all the way. Just as she
opened the outer lawn gate, the great Newfoundland dog came towards her
with a low growl; it changed directly though into a glad bark.

"I was sure you would know me, you dear old fellow; but I can't stop to
talk to you just now." And Annie patted his silken ears, and then went
on to the house, the dog bounding on before her, as though he had found
an old playmate.

John Greylston rubbed his eyes. No, it was not a dream. His darling
niece was really by his side, her soft curls touching his cheek; he
flung his arms tightly around her.

"Dear child, I was just dreaming about you; how glad I am to see your
sweet face again."

"I was sure you would be, Uncle John," she answered gayly, "and so I
started off from home this morning just, in a hurry. I took a sudden
fancy that I would come, and they could not keep me. But where is dear
Aunt Margaret? Oh, I know what I will do. I'll just run in and take her
by surprise. How well you look, uncle--so noble and grand too; by the
way, I always think King Robert Bruce must just have been such a man
like you."

"No laughing at your old uncle, you little rogue," said John Greylston
pleasantly, "but run and find your aunt. She is somewhere in t