t entirely concealed them,
and they made no sound on the soft, thick grass. Her face was perfectly
radiant.

"Oh, Gabriella," she exclaimed, "he is coming,--brother is coming
home,--he will be here in less than a week,--oh! I am so happy!"

And the sweet, affectionate creature leaned her head on my shoulder, and
actually sobbed in the fulness of her joy. My own heart palpitated with
strange emotions, with mingled curiosity, eagerness, and dread.

"Dear Edith," I cried, putting my arms around her, and kissing her fair,
infantine cheek, "I rejoice with you,--I could envy you if I dared. What
a blessing it must be to have a brother capable of inspiring so much
love!"

"He shall be your brother too, Gabriella! For, are you not my sister?
and of course he must be your brother. Come, let us sit down under the
dear old elm and talk about him, for my heart is so full that I can
speak and think of nothing else."

"And now," added she, as we sat under the kingly canopy of verdure,--on
a carpet of living velvet,--"let me tell you why I love Ernest so very,
very dearly. My father died when I was a little child, a little feeble
child, a cripple as well as an invalid. Ernest is four years older than
myself, and though when I was a little child he was but a very young
boy, he always seemed a protector and guardian to me. He never cared
about play like other children, loving his book better than any thing
else, but willing to leave even that to amuse and gratify me. Oh! I used
to suffer so much, so dreadfully,--I could not lie down, I could not sit
up without pain,--no medicine would give me any relief. Hour after hour
would Ernest hold me in his arms, and carry me about in the open air,
never owning he was weary while he could give me one moment's ease. No
one thought I would live beyond childhood, and I have no doubt many
believed that death would be a blessing to the poor, crippled child.
They did not know how dear life was to me in spite of all my sufferings;
for had I always been well, I never should have known those tender,
cherishing cares which have filled my heart with so much love. It is so
sweet to be petted and caressed as I have been!"

"It did not need sickness and suffering to make _you_ beloved, Edith," I
cried, twisting my fingers in her soft, golden curls. "Who could help
loving you and wishing to caress you?"

"Yes it did, Gabriella; my Heavenly Father knew that it did, or He would
never have laid upon me His