e, but I have strong hopes."

Mr. Graham did not speak, but he grasped his old friend's hand in
gratitude too deep for words, and the doctor went away well satisfied,
to carry the good news to his niece and nephew.

"Oh, how happy Marjorie will be!" cried Barbara, with sparkling eyes.
"When she wrote me that she had met a great surgeon, but would never
have the courage to speak to him about her aunt, how little either of us
dreamed--oh, what a wonderful, beautiful thing it all is! To think that
in five days I shall be with Mother. You don't think the shock will make
her ill, do you, Uncle George?"

"I hope not, dear, but we must be very careful how the news is broken to
her. Now I want Beverly to go to bed, and you must try to sleep, too,
Barbara, for you will need all your strength for the journey, and the
meeting with your mother."

But it was a long time before Barbara fell asleep that night. Old
memories were trooping back thick and fast, and there was so much that
was happy as well as sad to remember. She breathed more than one little
prayer of thankfulness to the dear Heavenly Father, who had watched
over her through all her trials and dangers, and brought her back at
last to home and friends. And when sleep came at last, it was a
peaceful, refreshing sleep, untroubled by feverish dreams.

CHAPTER XXIII

BREAKING THE NEWS

"DO sit down, Marjorie; you haven't been still for five minutes since
luncheon." Elsie spoke in a tone of weary exasperation, as she laid down
the book she had been trying to read, and regarded her cousin's flushed
cheeks and sparkling eyes, with a half amused, half annoyed expression.

Marjorie laughed nervously.

"I'm sorry I've been so restless," she said, "but how can I help it.
Just think, they'll be here this very day, and Mrs. Randolph doesn't
know a single thing yet."

"Of course I know it's the most exciting thing that ever happened,"
Elsie admitted, with resignation, "but one can't help getting tired even
of exciting things when one has heard of nothing else for a whole week.
It will be a week to-morrow since you got that telegram, and I don't
believe you've thought of another thing since."

"I don't believe I have," agreed Marjorie, "but then how could I? Oh,
Elsie, I'm so happy when I think it has all come about through my
recognizing that photograph! Just suppose Beverly and I hadn't gone to
Mammy's cabin that afternoon. I might never have seen a picture of
Bar