re filling it
with ruddy glow and warmth, which was like a silent welcome.

"Now, who's ill and wants a doctor? Sick folks' messengers shouldn't
lag," said the woman, scanning her visitor as they both stood in the
firelight glow.

"Oh, nobody is ill; and I only--I mean--I don't know where to begin,"
was the bewildering answer.

"Well, of course you know what brought you," suggested the other.

"Oh, the train brought me; and I've come to stay here."

"You have?" asked the woman.

"Yes; because Uncle Jonathan gave mamma a home once, when she was a
little girl; and she said he would me, if she sent me."

"And who are you? and who's your mamma?"

"I'm Inna; and mamma is Uncle Jonathan's niece."

"You aren't Miss Mercy's daughter?" said the woman.

"Yes, I'm Miss Mercy's daughter; and now, please, may I sit down?"
asked the little tired voice.

"Yes, poor little unwelcome lamb; I'll not be the one to deny that to
Miss Mercy's daughter. Come here;" and she set her own cushioned
rocking-chair forward on the hearth. "But where is Miss Mercy? and why
did she send you here?"

"Mamma is gone abroad with papa. Some people are afraid he's dying;
and"--Inna's heart was full--"I've a letter in my pocket for Uncle
Jonathan, to tell him all about it."

"Well, well, this will be news for master--unwelcome news, I'm
thinking," muttered the woman as to herself, but speaking aloud.

"Do you mean I shan't be welcome?" asked a strained little voice from
the rocking-chair.

"Well, dearie, welcome or not, here you are, and here you must stay for
to-night, at any rate. You see, Dr. Willett has one child on his hands
already, and he's a handful. I doubt if he'll want another. But then, we
must all have what we don't want sometimes--eh, miss?"

To this Inna sighed a troubled little "Yes."

Then Mrs. Grant--for she it was--bethought her to help her off with her
jacket and hat, and inquired had she any belongings at the station? Yes,
she had a trunk there; and an unknown Will--at least, unknown to
Inna--was despatched for it.

"But maybe you'd like some tea?" suggested the housekeeper.

"Yes, I should, please," the little lady assured her, folding her jacket
neatly, as she had been taught.

"Well, they're just having tea in the dining-room. Come along."

No use for Inna to shrink or shiver, for Mrs. Grant was leading the way
to those unknown tea-drinkers of whom she was to form one; the
fire-light from the kitchen showing