t to praise. But although an unusually great
deal of occupation pervaded the house this morning, still it was
nevertheless unusually quiet; people only spoke in low voices, and when
the least noise was made, the mother said, "Hush! hush!"

The cause of this was, that the lost but again-found child slept in the
house of her parents.

Sara had arrived there the evening before, and we have passed over this
scene, for the great change in her, and her shaken condition, had made
it sorrowful; yet we wish indeed that the feeling reader had seen the
manly tears which flowed down the cheeks of the Judge, as he laid the
found-again daughter on the bosom of her mother. We should like to have
shown him the unfortunate one, as she rested with her hands crossed over
her breast on the snow-white couch, over which the mother herself had
laid the fine coverlet; have shown him how she looked upon the child,
whose bed stood near her own; upon the beloved ones, who full of
affection surrounded her--and then up to heaven, without being able to
utter one word! And how glad should we have been could he have seen the
Jacobian pair this evening in the paternal home, and how there sate
eating around them, Adam and Jacob, the twin brothers Jonathan and
David, ditto Shem and Seth, together with Solomon and little Alfred.
They were well-trained children, and looked particularly well, all
dressed alike in a blouse of dark stuff, over which fell back the white
shirt collar, leaving free the throat with its lively tint of health,
whilst the slender waist was girded with a narrow belt of white leather.
Such was the light troop of "the Berserkers."

But we return to our bright morning hour. Eva and Leonore were in the
garden, and gathered with their own hands some select Astracan apples
and pears, which were to ornament the dinner table. They were still
glittering with dew, and for the last time the sun bathed them with
purple by the song of the bulfinch. The sisters had spoken of Sara; of
the little Elise, whom they would educate; of Jacobi--and their
conversation was cheerful; then they went to other subjects.

"And to-day," said Leonore, "your last answer goes to Colonel R----,
your last, no! And you feel quite satisfied that it should be so?"

"Yes, quite!" returned Eva; "how the heart changes! I cannot now
conceive how I once loved him!"

"It is extraordinary how he should still solicit your hand, and this
after so long a separation. He must