itting quietly near the foot of the bed, and the nurse, who
respectfully withdrew from his place beside the patient, as Mrs.
Cameron approached.

Calmly, though through fast-falling tears, the mother gazed for a
moment upon her son; then dropping upon her knees beside the bed, she
slipped one arm underneath the pillows, and gently drew the wounded
head upon her own breast, tenderly kissing the brow and cheeks; then
taking his hand within her own, she stroked and caressed it,
meanwhile crooning over him in low, murmuring tones, as though he had
been an infant.

There were no dry eyes in that little room, not excepting even the
nurse, while from the door-way of the adjoining room, Morton
Rutherford, Lyle and Everard Houston watched the scene with hearts too
full for utterance. Something in that gentle touch must have carried
the troubled mind of the sufferer back to the days of his childhood;
gradually the faint moaning ceased, the drawn, tense features relaxed,
and a sweet, child-like smile stole over his face now assuming a
death-like pallor.

For hours the mother knelt there, her husband by her side, Everard and
Leslie standing near, while in the background, in the dim light, was
Lyle with Morton Rutherford.

At last, Mr. Cameron, bending over his wife, entreated her to take a
few moments' rest and a little food. She hesitated, but Everard
spoke:

"You must take some refreshment, Aunt Marjorie, you have had no food
for hours; Leslie and I will watch here, and if there should be the
slightest change, I will call you."

At the name of Leslie, Mrs. Cameron looked up, with a sweet, motherly
smile, into the beautiful but tear-stained face beside her, and gently
withdrawing from the bedside, she turned and clasped Miss Gladden in
her arms, saying:

"My dear Leslie, I did not think we would meet for the first time
under such circumstances as these, but I am more than glad to find you
here. Everard has always been, and still is as our own son, and I
welcome you, my dear, as a daughter."

On entering the dining-room, Mr. and Mrs. Cameron found a most
tempting luncheon prepared for them, but no one in the room, Lyle
having judged they would prefer to be by themselves for awhile.

As Mrs. Cameron, having partaken of some slight refreshment, was
preparing to return to the sick-room, her husband said:

"Wait a moment, my dear; there is another joy in store for you,
Marjorie, in that, through Everard's coming out into