re
winter yet."

The boy smiled sadly enough, and the tears started in his eyes; but he
did not answer.

"Archie is thinking that, maybe, he'll never be well again," said his
sister. "The doctor says he may be a cripple all his life."

This was a new and unexpected sorrow to Mrs Blair; and her countenance
expressed the dismay she felt, as she questioned them about it.

"It was the fever. Archie was ill with the fever all the winter; and
when the spring came he didn't get strong again, as we had hoped, and
the disease settled in his knee. The doctor said if he could have got
away into the country he might have grown strong again. And maybe it's
not too late yet," added the little girl, eagerly. "I'm sure the very
sight of the hills, these bonny summer days, might make one strong and
well."

"Well, he'll get a sight of the hills before very long, I trust; and I
don't despair of seeing him strong and well yet," said Mrs Blair,
hopefully; and the children, reassured by her cheerful words, smiled
brightly to each other, as they thought of the happy days in store for
them.

Death had visited the homes of both since Mrs Blair and her
sister-in-law met last, and to both the meeting was a sad one. Lilias'
mother was scarcely more calm than Lilias had been, as she threw herself
into the arms of her long-tried friend. Her words of welcome were few;
but the earnest tearful gaze that she fixed upon her sister's face told
all that her quivering lips refused to utter.

When the first excitement of their meeting was over, Mrs Blair was
shocked to observe the change which grief and care had made in her
sister's face and form. She looked many years older than when she had
last seen her. There was not a trace of colour on her cheek or lip, and
her whole appearance indicated extreme weariness and languor. Little
was said of the exertions and privations of the last few months; but
that these must have been severe and many was to Mrs Blair only too
evident. The food placed upon the table was of the simplest and
cheapest kind, and of a quality little calculated to tempt the appetite
of an invalid; and she noticed with pain that it was scarcely tasted
either by the sick boy or his mother.

"You are not well to-night, mother," said Lilias, looking anxiously at
her as she put aside the untasted food.

"Yes, dear, I am as well as usual; but I am tired. The night is close
and sultry, and the walk has tired me more than usua