d,
with an arm fondly around his mother's neck. And there--no, it could
not be! There were her own father and mother. Edna gave one scream of
joy--ignoring Aunt Elizabeth, whom she had not seen for three weeks,
scarcely seeing Louis or anyone, but throwing herself into the dear
arms for which she had so often longed during these last months.

"So, my little runaway, we have you safe and sound," said her father.

Edna looked around bewildered. She a little runaway! Did he mean her?
Why, it was Louis who ran away. "I didn't run away," she said,
indignantly; "it was Louis," and then everybody laughed--why, she
didn't know.

"Now, give an account of yourself," said Mr. Conway. "Who told you
Louis had gone away?"

"Why, Ellen did," replied Edna.

"So I had gone!" piped up Louis; "I went with papa and mamma to the
hotel. They came this morning, and uncle and aunt came to take dinner
with us there."

"O," exclaimed Edna, "and I sent word by the telegraph that you had
runned away."

"What made you think that?" asked Mrs. Conway.

Edna looked at Louis; he looked rather sheepish, but he was brave
enough to help Edna out of the difficulty now that he had his father
and mother at hand. "Why--I--I--wrote to Edna," he faltered; "I said I
was going to run away, and--and--what did Ellen say?"

"She said--let me see--she--why I asked where you were, and she said
you were gone, and, of course, I thought you had run away, and when
she said aunt and uncle had followed you I thought it must be so, and
I was in such trouble I didn't know what to do 'cept to telegraph your
father so he would get you, somehow; and, O, dear! I saw some dreadful
cows, and I was so scared that I tumbled up the steps and Mrs.
Porter's boys let me in. Then Mrs. Porter made me stay; and O, just
think of it! I never knew my own papa and mamma were so near. Did you
get my telegram?" she asked Mr. Morrison, innocently.

"No," he said, laughing, "it may be at the hotel now, if it was
re-sent by my friends in Pasadena. You were a dear child to think of
doing something for Louis, although it turned out to be such a time of
trial."

"I think," said Mrs. Conway, "that Uncle Justus is the one who has had
the hardest time. We knew Edna was safe as soon as we reached here,
for then the note from Mrs. Porter had been found. Poor Ellen was so
distressed at your loss that she never once thought of giving Aunt
Elizabeth the note. You meant well, daughter, but you we