amma,
while on the coach box was seated a young boy. "What a fine, noble,
little fellow he is," she thought to herself, as the boy scrambled down
without waiting for the assistance of any one.

The next instant she scarcely knew what was happening--every one seemed
so full of confused delight. She felt that she was in her mother's
arms, who, still holding her, threw herself into those of granny. Then
her papa, a fine, handsome gentleman, took her up and kissed her again
and again; and next, she saw the little boy who had come in with a whip
in his hand; she sprang towards him exclaiming, "You are Norman!" and,
following the impulse of heart, covered his face with kisses.

"Yes, that's my name," answered the boy, "and you are the sister Fanny I
was told I should see; and is that old woman there granny? Will she
want to kiss me as you have done? I hope she won't, for I do not choose
to be treated as a baby."

Happily Mrs Leslie did not hear these remarks; they grieved Fanny
sorely.

"Oh but dear granny will love you as she does me, and you must come to
her as I am sure she wants to see you," she whispered gently. "Then you
shall go out with me, and I will show you my poultry and Trusty and all
sorts of things, which I am sure you will like."

"Come along then," said Norman, "I shall like to see the things you talk
of."

"Not surely till you have spoken to granny, but afterwards I will gladly
take you," said Fanny, and she led him up to Mrs Leslie.

Though his grandmamma kissed him several times, he behaved better than
might have been expected, restraining for a wonder his impatience,
somewhat awed perhaps by the dignified manner of the old lady.

"And now, Fanny, I am ready to see what you have got to show me," he
exclaimed, as Mrs Leslie taking her daughter's arm led her into the
drawing-room.

Captain Vallery cast a proud glance at his two beautiful children as
hand in hand they ran upstairs.

"Here is my doll's house," said Fanny, as she led Norman into her neat
bed-chamber; "see, it has a drawing-room, with sofas and chairs and
looking-glasses, and a dining-room, with a long table and plates and
dishes and knives and forks on it; and this is the kitchen, with its
stove and pots and pans; and here is the bedroom, where little Nancy
sleeps. She is a dear good child, and never cries, but as I have had
her for a long time, she is not as pretty as she used to be. I tell
granny that she was a poor negle