s answer came. How dear to his heart was
every word of her affectionate epistle! Like her, he went over it so
often, that every sentiment was fixed in his mind.

"Two weeks longer! How can I bear it?" he said, rising up, and pacing
the floor backwards and forwards, after reading her letter for the
tenth time. On the next day, the seventh of his lonely state, Mr. Gray
sat down to write again to Lucy. Several times he wrote the words, as
he proceeded in the letter--"Come home soon,"--but as often obliterated
them. He did not wish to appear over-anxious for her return, on her
father's and mother's account, who were much attached to her. But,
forgetting this reason for not urging her early return, he had
commenced again writing the words, "Come home soon," when a pair of
soft hands were suddenly placed over his eyes, by some one who had
stolen softly up behind him.

"Guess my name!" said a voice, in feigned tones.

Gray had no need to guess whose were the hands, for a sudden cry of joy
from a little toddling thing, told that "Mamma" had come.

How "Mamma" was hugged and kissed all round, need not here be told.
That scene was well enough in its place, but would lose its interest in
telling. It may be imagined, however, without suffering any particular
detriment, by all who have a fancy for such things.

"And father, too!" suddenly exclaimed Mr. Gray, after he had almost
smothered his wife with kisses, looking up, with an expression of
pleasure and surprise, at an old man who stood looking on, with his
good-humoured face covered with smiles.

"Yes. I had to bring the good-for-nothing jade home," replied the old
man, advancing and grasping his son-in-law's hand, with a hearty grip.
"She did nothing but mope and cry all the while, and I don't care if
she never comes to see us again, unless she brings you along to keep
her in good-humour."

"And I never intend going alone again," Mrs. Gray said, holding a
little chubby girl to her bosom, while she kissed it over and over
again, at the same time that she pressed close up to her husband's side.

The old man understood it all. He was not jealous of Lucy's affection,
for he knew that she loved him as tenderly as ever. He was too glad to
know that she was happy with a husband to whom she was as the apple of
his eye. In about three months Lucy made another visit "home." But
husband and child were along, this time, and the visit proved a happy
one all around. Of course, "fathe