nts of the evening had taken place in such rapid
order that she had no time to express her happiness to the girl. She
opened her arms, and Fledra darted into them.

"It's all because you prayed, Sister Ann," she sobbed, "and because you
taught me how to pray. Does--does Horace know about my new father and
mother?"

"No, Dear; he left Tarrytown before we ourselves knew. We received a
telegram from Horace saying he had come on to Ithaca. We must wait here;
for he'll arrive sometime tonight. We couldn't go and allow him to find
this place empty."

"Of course not," the girl sighed impatiently. "Oh, I hope he comes
soon!"

Her soul burned for a sight of him. He had been the first to fly to her
rescue, even when he had thought her but a squatter girl. He had not
shrunk from the dangers of the settlement, and, in spite of the peril of
Lem and Lon, he had been willing to drag her away from harm for the love
of her. The thought was infinitely sweet.

At length Ann brought her to the present.

"Fledra dear, can you realize that little Mildred is your own sister,
and that Mildred's mother is yours? Oh, Darling, you ought to be the
happiest girl in the world!"

"I'm happy, all right," said Fledra gravely; "only, I feel sorry for
Katherine. Somehow, we changed Daddies, didn't we?"

"Yes, Dear, and I feel for her too," lamented Ann. "I can't see how
she's going to bear it."

"Maybe she's been a praying," said Fledra, "as I did when I thought I
was coming to Lem. It does help a lot."

"Dear child, dear heart," murmured Ann, "your faith is greater than
mine! Katherine Vandecar is a saint, and--and so are you, Fledra."

"No, I'm not." The girl dropped her eyes and flushed deeply.

"Oh, but Fledra, you are!" Then a new thought entered Ann's mind, and
she hesitated before she continued. "Fledra, will you tell me something
about Mr. Brimbecomb? I mean--you know--the trouble you spoke of in your
letter to him?"

Fledra flashed a startled glance.

"Did he dare show it to you?"

"No, no, Fledra; he dropped it, and Horace found it."

"Is that the way you knew where I'd gone?"

"Yes, and on account of it Floyd went to the governor's house."

"Oh, why did you let Floyd go out? He is so ill!" Her eyes were
reproachful.

Ann, with a smile, kissed the girl.

"Dear, unselfish child," said she, "don't you understand that, if he
hadn't gone, you wouldn't have your strong, big father, nor would little
Floyd be now with his mo