er black silk and white lace, came out to me quickly, with
outstretched hands.

'You, too, are welcome home,' she said, and kissed me.

I stood with my hat off, saying something about being glad to come,
but wishing that I could get away before I should make quite a fool of
myself. For as I looked down upon that beautiful face, pale, except for
a faint flush upon each faded cheek, and read the story of pain endured
and conquered, and as I thought of all the long years of waiting and
of vain hoping, I found my throat dry and sore, and the words would not
come. But her quick sense needed no words, and she came to my help.

'You will find Jack at the stable,' she said, smiling; 'he ought to have
been here.'

The stable! Why had I not thought of that before? Thankfully now my
words came--

'Yes, certainly, I'll find him, Mrs. Graeme. I suppose he's as much of
a scapegrace as ever, and off I went to look up Graeme's young brother,
who had given every promise in the old days of developing into as
stirring a rascal as one could desire; but who, as I found out later,
had not lived these years in his mother's home for nothing.

'Oh, Jack's a good boy,' she answered, smiling again, as she turned
toward the other two, now waiting for her upon the walk.

The week that followed was a happy one for us all; but for the mother it
was full to the brim with joy. Her sweet face was full of content, and
in her eyes rested a great peace. Our days were spent driving about
among the hills, or strolling through the maple woods, or down into the
tamarack swamp, where the pitcher plants and the swamp lilies and the
marigold waved above the deep moss. In the evenings we sat under the
trees on the lawn till the stars came out and the night dews drove us
in. Like two lovers, Graeme and his mother would wander off together,
leaving Jack and me to each other. Jack was reading for divinity, and
was really a fine, manly fellow, with all his brother's turn for rugby,
and I took to him amazingly; but after the day was over we would gather
about the supper table, and the talk would be of all things under
heaven--art, football, theology. The mother would lead in all. How quick
she was, how bright her fancy, how subtle her intellect, and through all
a gentle grace, very winning and beautiful to see!

Do what I would, Graeme would talk little of the mountains and his life
there.

'My lion will not roar, Mrs. Graeme,' I complained; 'he simply will