said Rachel; "and we
might as well expect the worst, because it's sure to come."

"At that rate there wouldn't be much joy in life," said the cooper.
"No, Rachel, you are wrong. God didn't send us into the world to be
melancholy. He wants us to enjoy ourselves. Now I have no idea that Jack
has jumped into the river. Then again, if he has, he can swim."

"I suppose," said Rachel, "you expect him to come home in a coach and
four, bringing Ida with him."

"Well," said the cooper, good-humoredly, "I don't know but that is as
probable as your anticipations."

Rachel shook her head dismally.

"Bless me!" said Mrs. Crump, in a tone of excitement; "there's a
carriage just stopped at our door, and--yes, it is Jack, and Ida too!"

The strange (sic) fulfilment of the cooper's suggestion struck even Aunt
Rachel. She, too, hastened to the window, and saw a handsome carriage
drawn, not by four horses, but by two elegant bays, standing before the
door. Jack had already jumped out, and was now assisting Ida to alight.
No sooner was Ida on firm ground than she ran into the house, and was at
once clasped in the arms of her adopted mother.

"O mother!" she exclaimed; "how glad I am to see you once more."

"Haven't you a kiss for me too, Ida?" said the cooper, his face radiant
with joy. "You don't know how much we've missed you."

"And I'm so glad to sec you all, and Aunt Rachel, too."

To her astonishment, Aunt Rachel, for the first time in the child's
remembrance, kissed her. There was nothing wanting to her welcome home.

Scarcely had the spinster done so than her observant eyes detected what
had escaped the cooper and his wife, in their joy.

"Where did you get this dress, Ida?" she asked.

Then, for the first time, all observed that Ida was more elegantly
dressed than when she went away. She looked like a young princess.

"That Mrs. Hardwick didn't give you this gown, I'll be bound," said she.

"Oh, I've so much to tell you," said Ida, breathlessly. "I've found my
mother,--my other mother!"

A pang struck to the honest hearts of Timothy Crump and his wife. Ida
must leave them. After all the happy years during which they had watched
over and cared for her, she must leave them at length.

Just then, an elegantly-dressed lady appeared at the threshold. Smiling,
radiant with happiness, Mrs. Clifton seemed, to the cooper's family,
almost a being from another sphere.

"Mother," said Ida, taking her hand, and leading her