bby complied, and the silent death-watch was resumed, and
continued unbroken except by the howling of the wind, the beating of the
rain, and the rattling of the leafless trees, until at length--inexplicable
sound!--wheels were heard, grating over the rough, neglected avenue,
and approaching the house.

Who could it be, coming at that late hour of a stormy night, to a house
to which, even in daylight and good weather, scarcely a visitor ever
came?

The sound of the wheels ceased before the door, and was immediately
followed by a knock.

"Burglars never come in wheeled carriages," said Miss Tabby to herself,
as she recovered her courage, and went and opened the door.

She recoiled with a loud cry.

Every one started up, and hurried forward to see what could now be the
matter.

CHAPTER XXXIII.

RETURN OF THE EXILE.

Long years had seen her roaming
A sad and weary way,
Like traveller tired at gloaming,
Of a sultry summer-day.

But now a home doth greet her,
Though worn its portals be,
And ready kindness meet her,
And peace that will not flee.--PERCIVAL.

Sybil Berners stood before them! Sybil Berners, in magnificent beauty!
Sybil Berners, developed into a woman of majestic dignity and angelic
grace!

Yet they all knew her in an instant.

The scene that followed is indescribable, unimaginable.

Forgotten was the dying man! Unseen was Lyon Berners, whose fine form
filled up the door-way.

They crowded around _her_, they caressed her, they cried over her, they
exclaimed about her, they asked her a score of questions, and without
waiting for a single answer asked her a hundred others.

"God bless my dear old home, and all the people in it!" were the first
words that Sybil spoke after she was permitted to catch her breath.

"And you, my darling, you! God bless you in coming home!" fervently
exclaimed the old woman.

"Now, where is my child; Mrs. Winterose? Where is my Gem?" the lady
inquired, looking eagerly around the room.

"Gem, come here," said the dame.

And the beautiful young girl who had been timidly lingering in the
background, yet with some suspicion of the lady's identity too, came
modestly forward, and was silently folded in the arms of her mother.

A moment they clung thus; and then Sybil lifted the young head from her
bosom, and holding it between her hands gazed tenderly down in the sweet
face.

"My daughter! my little Gem!" she murmur