tress of her beautiful hair?"

"No, no, it was only a lock of her unworthy husband's hair--a much
slighter loss," Travilla said, laughing. "But perhaps the reporter would
justify his misrepresentation on the plea that man and wife are one."

"Possibly. And did your shot shatter the bone in the rascal's arm?"

"No; Dr. Balis told me the ball glanced from the bone, passed under the
nerve and severed the humeral artery."

"It's a wonder he didn't bleed to death."

"Yes; but it seems he had sufficient knowledge and presence of mind to
improvise a tourniquet with his handkerchief and a stick."

"What rooms were you occupying?" asked Mr. Dinsmore. "Come, just tell me
the whole story as if I had heard nothing of it before."

Travilla complied, occasionally appealing to Elsie to assist his memory;
and they had hardly done with the subject when the carriage turned into
the avenue at Ion.

"My darling, welcome to your home," said Travilla low and tenderly,
lifting the little gloved hand to his lips.

An involuntary sigh escaped from Mr. Dinsmore's breast.

"Thank you, my friend," Elsie replied to her husband, the tone and the
look saying far more than the words. Then turning to her father, "And
to-morrow, papa, you will welcome me to the other of my two dear homes."

"I hope so, daughter; sunlight is not more welcome than you will always
be."

What joyous greetings now awaited our travelers. Elsie had hardly stepped
from the carriage ere she found herself in Mrs. Travilla's arms, the old
lady rejoicing over her as the most precious treasure Providence could
have sent her.

Then came Rose, with her tender, motherly embrace, and joyous "Elsie,
dearest, how glad I am to have you with us again."

"Oh, but you've missed us sadly!" said Aunt Wealthy, taking her turn; "the
house seemed half gone at the Oaks. Didn't it, Horace?"

"Yes; the absence of our eldest daughter made a very wide gap in the
family circle," answered Mr. Dinsmore.

And "Yes, indeed!" cried Horace junior, thinking himself addressed. "I
don't believe I could have done without her at all if she hadn't written
me those nice little letters."

"Don't you thank me for bringing her back then, my little brother?" asked
Mr. Travilla, holding out his hand to the child.

"Yes, indeed, Brother Edward. Papa says I may call you that, as you asked
me to; and I'll give you another hug as I did that night, if you'll let
me."

"That I will, my boy!" And opening