wton came regularly to see Phillis, who frequently rallied. Her
cheerfulness made her appear stronger than she was; but when Alice would
tell her how well she looked, and that the sight of Arthur would complete
her recovery, she invariably answered, "I want to see him mightily, child;
but about my gettin well, there's no telling. God only knows."

CHAPTER XXVI.

"Do sit down, my dear cousin," said Miss Janet to Mr. Weston, who was
walking up and down the drawing-room. "Here, in August, instead of being
quiet and trying to keep cool, you are fussing about, and heating yourself
so uselessly."

"I will try," said Mr. Weston, smiling, and seating himself on the sofa;
but you must recollect that for three years I have not seen my only son,
and that now he is coming home to stay. I cannot realize it; it is too much
happiness. We are so blessed, Cousin Janet, we have so much of this world's
good, I sometimes tremble lest God should intend me to have my portion
here."

"It is very wrong to feel so," said Cousin Janet; "even in this world, He
can give his beloved rest."

"But am I one of the beloved?" asked Mr. Weston, thoughtfully.

"I trust so," said Cousin Janet. "I do not doubt it. How lamentable would
be your situation and mine, if, while so near the grave, we were deprived
of that hope, which takes from it all its gloom."

"Are you talking of gloom?" said Mrs. Weston, "and Arthur within a few
miles of us? It is a poor compliment to him. I never saw so many happy
faces. The servants have all availed themselves of their afternoon's
holiday to dress; they look so respectable. Esther says they have gone to
the outer gate to welcome Arthur first; Bacchus went an hour ago. Even poor
Aunt Phillis has brightened up. She has on a head-handkerchief and apron
white as snow, and looks quite comfortable, propped up by two or three
pillows.

"Arthur will be sadly distressed to see Phillis, though he will not realize
her condition at first. The nearer her disease approaches its consummation,
the brighter she looks."

"It seems but yesterday," said Mr. Weston, "that Phillis sat at her cabin
door, with Arthur (a baby) in her arms, and her own child, almost the same
age, in the cradle near them. She has been no eye-servant. Faithfully has
she done her duty, and now she is going to receive her reward. I never can
forget the look of sympathy which was in her face, when I used to go to her
cabin to see my motherless child. Sh