one up stairs, she ran out to
the kitchen, whispering,--

"O, mother! O, Louise!" but broke down by laughing.

"What does ail the child?" said Mrs. Parlin, laughing too.

Margaret tried again to speak, but this time burst into tears.

"There, it's of no use," she sobbed: "I'm so happy that it's really
dreadful. I'm afraid somebody may die of joy."

"I'm more afraid somebody'll die of curiosity," said aunt Louise: "do
speak quick."

"Well, Henry Clifford is alive," said Margaret: "that's the blessed
truth! Now hush! We must be so careful how we tell Maria!"

Mrs. Parlin caught Margaret by the shoulder, and gasped for breath.
Louise dropped into a chair.

"What do you mean? What have you heard?" they both cried at once.

"He was taken off the field for dead; but life was not quite gone. He
lay for weeks just breathing, and that was all."

"But why did no one let us know it?" said Louise. "Of course Maria would
have gone to him at once."

"There was no one to write; and when Henry came to himself there was no
hope of him, except by amputation of his left arm; and after that
operation he was very low again."

"O, why don't you give us the letter," said Louise, "so we can see for
ourselves?"

But she was too excited to read it; and while she was trying to collect
her ideas, aunt Madge had to hunt for grandma's spectacles; and then
the three looked over the surgeon's letter together, sometimes all
talking at once.

Captain Clifford would be in Maine as soon as possible: so the letter
said. A young man was to come with him to take care of him, and they
were to travel very slowly indeed; might be at home in a fort-night.

"They may be here to-night," said Mrs. Parlin.

This letter had been written to prepare the family for Captain
Clifford's arrival. It was expected that aunt Madge would break the news
to his wife.

"It's such a pity that little flyaway of a Horace didn't give you the
letter in time," said Louise; "and then we might have had some days to
get used to it."

"Wait a minute, dear," said aunt Madge, as Susy came in for a drink of
water: "please run up and ask aunt Maria to come down stairs. Now,
mother," she added, "you are the one to tell the story, if you please."

"We can all break it to her by degrees," said Mrs. Parlin, twisting her
checked apron nervously.

When Mrs. Clifford entered the kitchen, she saw at once that something
had happened. Her mother, with a flushed face, was opening