at the farther side of the room, her face
hidden in her hands, an open letter lying in her lap.

"My poor child! Is it bad news?" Elsie asked, going up to the little
girl, and touching her hair caressingly.

"It is heart-breaking to me, aunt Elsie; but read and judge for
yourself," Evelyn replied, in a voice choking with sobs; and taking up
the letter, she put it into her aunt's hand.

Elsie gave it a hasty perusal, then, tossing it indignantly aside, took
the young weeper in her arms, bestowing upon her tender caresses and
soothing words.

"It is hard, very hard for you, dear, I know; it would be for me in your
place; but we must just try to make the best of it."

"Yes," sobbed Evelyn; "but I could hardly feel more fully orphaned if my
mother were dead. And papa has not been gone a year. Oh, how could she!
how could she! You see, aunt Elsie, she talks of my joining her as soon
as I am my own mistress; but how can I ever think of it now?"

"We--your uncle and I--would be very loath to give you up, darling; and,
if you can only be content, I think you may always have a happy home
here, with us," Elsie said, with another tender caress.

"Dear auntie, you and uncle have made it a very happy home to me,"
returned Evelyn gratefully, wiping away her tears as she spoke, and
forcing a rather sad sort of smile. "I should be as sorry to leave it
as you could possibly be to have me do so."

Evelyn was of a very quiet temperament, rarely indulging in bursts of
emotion of any kind; and Elsie soon succeeded in restoring her to
calmness, though her eyes still showed traces of tears; and her
expressive features again wore the look of gentle sadness that was their
wont in the first weeks of her sojourn at Fairview, but which had
gradually changed to one of cheerfulness and content.

"Now, Eva, dear, it is time we were getting ready for our drive to Ion,"
Elsie said. "Shall I help you change your dress?"

"I--I think, if you will excuse me, auntie," Evelyn returned, with
hesitation, "I should prefer to stay at home. I'm scarcely in the mood
for merry-making."

"Of course, you shall do just as you like, dear child," was the kindly
response; "but it is only to be a family party, and you need not be
mixed up with any fun or frolic,--I don't suppose there will be any
thing of the kind going on,--and you will probably enjoy a private chat
with your bosom-friend, Lulu. You know, there are plenty of corners
where you can get toget