ame over it as she turned quickly away and went
swiftly through the spacious entrance hall and up the broad stairway.

No earthly eye saw that look, but the traces of tears on her mother's
cheeks had not escaped Vi's keen observation.

"Grandpa," she said in low, tremulous tones, following him into the
library, whither he went to await the summons to breakfast, "what has
been distressing mamma so? is it that she is so anxious about Elsie and
Walter? May I not know?"

Mr. Dinsmore paused a moment before he replied. "You shall know all about
it, my dear child, before very long. Be satisfied for the present with the
assurance that your mother's distress is for another's woe. You know what
a tender, sympathetic heart she has. I cannot deny that our little ones
are seriously ill, but their case is very far from hopeless."

CHAPTER II.

"Within her heart was his image,
Cloth'd in the beauty of love and youth, as last she beheld him,
Only more beautiful made by his deathlike silence and absence."
--_Longfellow_.

The sick ones ware sleeping quietly when the mother entered; the doctor
had already breakfasted, and would assist Aunt Chloe and Dinah in watching
beside them for the next hour, so the two Elsies--mother and
daughter--went down together to the breakfast parlor.

They were a more silent party than usual at meal-time, for no one could
forget the two absent members of the family, or that they were suffering
upon beds of sickness; yet there was no gloom in any face or voice: their
few words were spoken in cheerful tones, and each seemed unselfishly
intent upon promoting the comfort and happiness of all the others; on the
part of the children, especially of their grandfather and mother; each
young heart was evidently full to overflowing of tenderest sympathy and
love for her.

She had been closely confined to the sick-room for several days, so that
it was a treat to have her with them at breakfast and at family worship,
which followed directly upon the conclusion of the meal.

It surprised them a little that when the short service came to an end, she
did not even then return at once to her sick little ones, but putting on a
garden hat invited her eldest daughter to do likewise and come with her
for a short stroll in the grounds.

"It will do us both good," she said as they stepped from the veranda upon
the broad, gravelled walk, "