ight of her peaceful home
never again grow dim.

GOING HOME.

"IT'S nearly a year, now, since I was home," said Lucy Gray to her
husband, "and so you must let me go for a few weeks."

They had been married some four or five years, and never had been
separated, during that time, for twenty-four hours at a time.

"I thought you called this your home," remarked Gray, looking up, with
a mock-serious air.

"I mean my old home," replied Lucy, in a half-affected tone of anger.
"Or, to make it plain, I want to go and see father and mother."

"Can't you wait three or four months, until I can go with you?" asked
the young husband.

"I want to go now. You said all along that I should go in May."

"I know I did. But I thought I would be able to go with you."

"Well, why can't you go? I am sure you might, if you would."

"No, Lucy, I cannot possibly leave home now. But if you are very
anxious to see the old folks, I can put you into the stage, and you
will go safe enough. Ellen and I can take care of little Lucy, no
doubt. How long a time do you wish to spend with them?"

"About three weeks, or so."

"Very well, Lucy; if you are not afraid to go alone, I will not say a
word."

"I am not afraid, dear," said the wife, in a voice changed and softened
in its expression. "But are you perfectly willing to let me go, Henry?"

"Oh, certainly," was the reply, although the tone in which the words
were uttered had something of reluctance in it. "It would be selfish in
me to say, no. Your father and mother will be delighted to receive a
visit just now."

"And you think that you and Ellen can get along with little Lucy?"

"Oh yes, very well."

"I should like to go, so much!"

"Go, then, by all means."

"But won't you be very lonesome without me?" suggested Lucy, in whose
own bosom a feeling of loneliness was already beginning to be felt at
the bare idea of a separation from her husband.

"I can stand it as long as you," was Gray's laughing reply to this.
"And then I shall have our dear little girl."

Lucy laughed in return, but did not feel as happy at the idea of "going
home" as she thought she would be, before her husband's consent had
been gained. The desire to go, however, remaining strong, it was
finally settled that the visit should be paid. So all the preparations
were entered upon, and in the course of a week Henry Gray saw his wife
take her seat in the stage, with a feeling of regret at parting, which