m puppyhood to old age, this faithful creature had made it her
daily business to keep the cows, sheep, pigs, and poultry each in
their proper places, and, having been raised on a quiet, orderly New
England farm, had never in the course of her whole life, had occasion
to perform more onerous nightly duties than to sleep with one eye
open; consequently, she had come to consider regular rest as her
lawful right, and was in no mood to bear the present encroachment.

"I believe the dog is getting old and cross," said Recta in a voice
very like that which had occasioned her censure. "Here Lilly Foot,
there's Old Spot; take her."

The words had scarcely left Recta's lips before Lilly Foot saw and
flew violently at the object indicated,

"Lilly Foot."

They all heard--Edward's voice that came from the rose bush, and it
would be difficult to say from which of the three, Louise, Recta, or
Lilly Foot, he received the warmest greeting.

Mrs. Sherman had passed the crisis, of her disease, and Edward,
assured of her convalesence, sought her bedside with a buoyant step.

"My dear son, to have you here is all the medicine I need now," she
said, as she held him to her bosom.

The first greetings over, Edward's unnatural strength produced by
anxiety and excitement gave way, and he lay down to rest that night
prostrated in body and mind.

Confused images of his mother, Little Wolf, and Bloody Jim crowded his
unquiet dreams, and he awoke in the morning comparatively unrefreshed,
and the old load in his bosom but little lightened. Soon after
breakfast he signified his intention of riding over to the Post
Office, two miles distant.

"O no," said his sister playfully, "mother will be disappointed; she
expects to have you all to herself this morning. I made it a point to
go for the mail every day until she was taken sick. Let me go this
time, I really need a horseback ride. If I get a letter for you, you
shall have it in just fifteen minutes."

"From now?"

"No; from the time I get it."

"I am overruled," laughed Edward, and he went to his mother's room.
Scarcely had he seated himself when Mrs. Sherman enquired,

"Has Dr. DeWolf's daughter been found yet, Edward?"

"No, mother."

"How dreadful! Dr. Goodrich said in his last letter he had but little
hope of seeing her alive. I was gratified to hear that you were in
pursuit, and that you were situated so you could do your father's old
friend a favor. I wish you would tell me