ming all the way from Oregon to see.

At last, one pleasant afternoon, there was a step in the hall that I
recognized; it was Ned's! I reached him first, and felt his dear old
arms close fast about me; and then, for Louise's right was stronger than
mine, I gave him over to her and the rest. My happiness, though it half
blinded me, did not prevent my seeing a pallid little face looking
earnestly in from the back hall door. Then Joe had not come! I felt a
keen pang for Rhoda.

"Ned," said I, as soon as I could get a word with him, "there is Joe
Breck's sister; where is Joe?"

"Where is Joe?" said Ned; "why, there he is."

Sure enough, there above Rhoda's--a good way above--was a dark, fine,
manly face, all sun-browned and bearded.--"Rhoda!"--He had stolen a
march upon her. She turned and saw him. A swift look of glad surprise,
and the brother and sister so long separated had recognized each other.
He drew her to him and held her there tenderly as if she were a little
child.

* * * * *

So Joe bought "a little place," and I believe he would fain have had his
sister Rhoda for its mistress. But then it came out that Will Bright,
that sly fellow had been using every bit of persuasion in his power to
make her promise that she would keep house for him. Nay, he had won
already a conditional promise, the proviso being, of course, Joe's
approval. Will's is not a little place, either. With his relative's
legacy he purchased the great Wellwood nursery; and so skilled is he in
its management that uncle says there is not a more thriving man in the
neighborhood. And Rhoda, of whom he is wonderfully proud, is as content
a little woman as any in the land. Whenever I go to Uncle
Bradburn's,--and few summers pass that I do not,--I make a point of
reserving time for a visit to Rhoda. The last time I went, I encountered
Will bringing her down stairs in his arms; and she held in her arms, as
something too precious to be yielded to another, what proved on
inspection to be a tiny, blue-eyed baby. It was comical to see her
ready, matronly ways; and it was touching, when you thought of the past,
to witness her quiet yet perfect enjoyment.

And I really know of no one in the world more heartily benevolent than
she. "You see," she says, "I knew once what it is to need kindness; and
now I should be worse than a heathen if I did not help other people when
I have a chance."

I suppose Hepsy pitied Joe for his d