fashionable to take breakfast early."

"Then you must come in. My cousin will give you some breakfast."

Ben hesitated; but finally decided to accept the invitation. He had two
reasons for this. Partly because it would give him an opportunity to see
his sister; and, secondly, because it would save him the expense of
buying his breakfast elsewhere, and that was a consideration, now that
he had a special object for saving money.

"Is Mrs. Abercrombie at home?" asked Charles of the servant who answered
his summons.

"Yes, sir; who shall I say is here?"

"Her cousin, Charles Montrose."

"Will you walk into the parlor?" said the servant, opening a door at the
side of the hall. She looked doubtfully at Ben, who had also entered the
house.

"Sit down here, Ben," said Charles, indicating a chair on one side of
the hat-stand. "I'll stop here till Mrs. Abercrombie comes down," he
said.

Soon a light step was heard on the stairs, and Mrs. Abercrombie
descended the staircase. She is the same that we last saw in the modest
house in the Pennsylvania village; but the lapse of time has softened
her manners, and the influence of a husband and a home have improved
her. But otherwise she has not greatly changed in her looks.

Ben, who examined her face eagerly, recognized her at once. Yes, it was
his sister Mary that stood before him. He would have known her anywhere.
But there was a special mark by which he remembered her. There was a
dent in her cheek just below the temple, the existence of which he could
account for. In a fit of boyish passion, occasioned by her teasing him,
he had flung a stick of wood at her head, and this had led to the mark.

"Where did you come from, Charles?" she said, giving her hand cordially
to her young cousin.

"From Boston, Cousin Mary."

"Have you just arrived, and where is your father? You did not come on
alone, did you?"

"No, father is with me, or rather he came on with me, but he had some
errands down town, and stopped to attend to them. He will be here soon."

"How did you find the way alone?"

"I was not alone. There is my guide. By the way, I told him to stay, and
you would give him some breakfast."

"Certainly, he can go down in the basement, and the servants will give
him something."

Mrs. Abercrombie looked at Ben as she spoke; but on her part there was
no sign of recognition. This was not strange. A boy changes greatly
between ten and sixteen years of age, and when to this