her has some
doubts about two weeks being sufficient after such a terrible sickness.
Just then she would have advised waiting a few days longer.

The next fortnight passes slowly. Then came a letter from Oswald to Sir
Donald. Under advice of his physician, he will wait another week before
starting homeward. His passage is already engaged, and he gives the
ship's name, with date when it will leave New York Harbor. After
arrival at Southampton, he will visit his parents, and then at
Northfield. Some pleasant things were written about anticipated
reunions, and the letter closed with wish for remembrance to Esther,
Alice Webster, and Charles Randolph.

There is regret at this waiting, but all approve Oswald's doing as
advised by the physician.

Alice and Charles are not pensive over any delays. In conscious
adjustment to the happy present, neither past nor future clouds their
clear, sunlighted skies. Both feel that their lives soon will blend.
Before that expected proposal neither doubted its utterance or
acceptance. It came as easily as come responsive, happy greetings from
eager lips and lustrous eyes. There is no doubt of that uncle's
approval, but the nuptial ceremony can abide his return from Calcutta.

The next day after this betrothal came another letter from Oswald to Sir
Donald, telling of his safe arrival at Southampton. He will visit his
parents, and in three days from that date be at Northfield.

All experience a sense of expectant pleasure. Sir Donald feels that past
worries are receding into waning retrospect. Charles is happy in his own
right. Alice longs for a sight of that Thames resurrection while looking
into the handsome face then smiling its admiration of her own.
Bessie--well, this little fair-haired "find" says all sorts of pretty,
indiscreet things, interrupts tete-a-tetes, intrudes upon conferences,
artlessly domineers over everybody, closing each day's performances by
going to sleep upon the arm of Sir Donald.

Without mishap Oswald reaches Southampton. The ocean voyage had been
pleasant, and he feels buoyantly hopeful. He is impatient for the home
reunion with father and mother. Anticipating their glad surprise at his
safe return, Oswald pauses at the familiar portal out of which he had
fled a disguised fugitive years before. He hesitates, then rings the
bell. The door is opened, and his father looks inquiringly. There is
glad recognition, and the rector leads his son to a chair, but both
r