ing listlessly, almost helplessly on the
sofa. Her utmost effort to appear well and cheerful at the sight of
them failed this once. She rose slowly and leaned back again almost
immediately, closing her eyes with a sigh.

"Graeme!" exclaimed Harry, "what ails you! Such a face! Look here, I
have something for you. Guess what."

"A letter," said Rose. "Oh! Graeme look!"

But Graeme was past looking by this time. Her brothers were startled
and tried to raise her.

"Don't, Arthur," said Rose; "let her lie down. She will be better in a
little. Harry get some water."

Poor, wee Rosie! Her hands trembled among the fastenings of Graeme's
dress, but she knew well what to do.

"You don't mean that she has been like this before?" said Arthur, in
alarm.

"Yes, once or twice. She is tired, she says. She will soon be better,
now."

In a minute Graeme opened her eyes, and sat up. It was nothing, she
said, and Arthur was not to be frightened; but thoroughly frightened
Arthur was, and in a little while Graeme found herself placed in the
doctor's hands. It was a very kind, pleasant face that bent over her,
but it was a grave face too, at the moment. When Graeme repeated her
assurance that she was not ill, but only overcome with the heat and
weariness, he said these had something to do with it, doubtless, and
spoke cheerfully about her soon being well again; and Arthur's face
quite brightened, as he left the room with him. Rose followed them, and
when her brother's hand was on the door, whispered,--

"Please, Arthur, may I say something to the doctor? I think it is
partly because Graeme is homesick."

"Homesick!" repeated the doctor and Arthur in a breath.

"Perhaps not homesick exactly," said Rose, eagerly addressing her
brother. "She would not go back again you know; but everything is so
different--no garden, no hills, no pond. And oh! Arthur, don't be
vexed, but we have no Janet nor anything here."

Rosie made a brave stand against the tears and sobs that were rising in
spite of her, but she was fain to hide her face on her brother's arm as
he drew her toward him, and sat down on the sofa. The doctor sat down,
too.

"Why, Rosie! My poor, wee Rosie! what has happened to my merry little
sister?"

"I thought the doctor ought to know, and you must not tell Graeme. She
does not think that I know."

"Know what?" asked Arthur.

"That she is so sad, and that the time seems long. But I have watched