as a
son and brother like Arthur Hazleton.

"He's coming," cried Alice, jumping up and clapping her hands, "I hear
his horse galloping towards the gate. I know the sound of its hoofs from
all others."

This was true. The unerring ear of the blind girl never deceived her.
Arthur was indeed coming. The gate opened. His rapid footstep was heard
passing through the avenue, bounding up the steps, and there they were
arrested by the welcoming trio, all ready to greet him. It was a happy
moment for Arthur when wrapped in that triune embrace, for Helen, timid
as she was, had learned to look upon him as a dear, elder brother, whose
cares and affection were divided between her and the sightless Alice;
and for whom she felt a love equal to that which she cherished for
Louis, mingled with a reverence and admiration that bordered upon
worship.

"My dear mother," said he, when they had escorted him into the
sitting-room, and in spite of his resistance made him take the best and
pleasantest seat in the room, "my dear mother, I hope I have not kept
you up too late; I would have been here sooner, but you know I am a
servant of the public, and my time is not my own."

"Oh! brother, I am so glad to see you!" cried Alice, pressing her
glowing cheek against his hand. It was thus she always said; and she did
see him with her spirit's eyes, beautiful as a son of the morning, and
radiant as the god of day. She passed her hands softly over his dark,
brown locks, over the contour of his cheeks and chin with a kind of
lingering, mesmerizing touch, which seemed to delight in tracing the
lineaments of symmetry and grace.

"Brother," she said, "your cheeks are reddening--I know it by their
warmth. What makes the blood come up to the cheeks when the heart is
glad? Helen's are red, too, for I know it by the throbbings of her
heart."

"Helen has one pale cheek and one red one," answered Arthur, passing his
arm around her and drawing her towards him. "If she were a little
older," added he, bending down and kissing the pale cheek, "we might
bring a rose to this, and then they would be blooming twins."

The rose did bloom most beautifully at his touch, and a smile of
affectionate delight gilded the child's pensive lips.

"Alice, my dear, what have you and Helen been doing since I was here?
You are always planning something to surprise me--something to make me
glad and grateful."

"We have been knitting a purse for you, brother, each of us; and