ening the door of the drawing-room where the family were gathered:

"Wife," he said cheerfully, "will you please step here a moment?"

She came at once and followed him down the hall, asking, "What is it,
Edward?" for her heart misgave her that something was wrong.

"Not much, I hope, dearest," he said, turning and taking her in his arms.
"Our boy, Eddie, has done a brave deed and suffered some injury by it,
but nothing serious, I trust. He will be here in a moment."

He felt her cling to him with a convulsive grasp, he heard her quick
coming breath, the whispered words, "Oh, my son! Dear Lord, help!" then,
as the rumble of the wagon wheels was heard nearing the door, she put her
hand in his, calm and quiet, and went forth with him to meet their wounded
child.

His father helped him to alight, and supported him up the veranda steps.

"Don't be alarmed, mother, I'm not badly hurt," he said, but staggered as
he spoke, and would have fallen but for his father's sustaining arm, and
by the light from the open door, she saw his eyes close and a deadly
pallor overspread his face.

"He's fainting!" she exclaimed, springing to his other side. "Oh, my boy,
this is no trifle!"

Servants were already crowding about them, and Eddie was quickly borne to
his room, laid upon the bed, and restoratives administered.

"Fire!" his mother said with a start and shudder, pointing to his singed
locks, "oh, where has the child been?"

Her husband told her in a few words.

"And he has saved a life!" she cried with tears of mingled joy and grief,
proud of her brave son, though her tender mother heart ached for his
suffering. "Thank God for that, if--if he has not sacrificed his own."

The door opened and Arthur Conly came in.

Consciousness was returning to the lad, and looking up at his cousin as he
bent over him, "Tell mother," he murmured, "that I'm not much hurt."

"I have to find that out, first," said Arthur. "Do you feel any burns,
bruises? whereabouts are you injured, do you think?"

"Something--a falling beam, I suppose, grazed my head and struck me on the
shoulder; I think, too, that my hands and face are scorched."

"Yes, your face is; and your hands--scorched? why they are badly burned!
And your collar bone's broken. That's all, I believe; enough to satisfy
you, I hope?"

"Quite," Eddie returned with a faint smile. "Don't cry, mother dear, you
see it's nothing but what can be made right in a few days or weeks."

"Y