hall. Anne started up,
Lenore buried her face on Mrs. Poynsett's bosom, the mother clasped
her hands over her convulsively, then beheld, as the door opened, a
tall figure, with a dark bright face full of ineffable softness and
joy. Frank himself, safe and sound, with his two brothers behind
him. They stayed not to speak, but hastened to spread the glad
tidings; while he flung himself down, including both his mother and
Lenore in one rapturous embrace, and carrying his kiss from one to
the other--conscious, if no one else was, that this first seal of
his love was given in his mother's arms.

Lenore did indeed extricate herself, and stand up as rosy red as she
had been pale; but she had no room for any thought beyond his
mother's trembling "Not hurt, my dear?"

"Not hurt! Not a scratch! Thank God! Oh! thank God!" answered
Frank, quivering all over with thankfulness, though probably far
more at the present joy than the past peril.

"Yes--oh, thanks for His mercy!" echoed Anne, giving fervent hand
and tearful cheek to the eager salutation, which probably would have
been as energetic to Clio or old Betty at that moment!

"But there's blood on your wristband," cried the mother. "You are
hurt!"

"No; it's not mine. I didn't know it. It is from the poor fellow I
helped to carry into the public-house at Knoll, just this side
Backsworth, a good deal hurt, I'm afraid. Something had got on the
lines, I believe. I was half asleep, and knew nothing till I found
ourselves all crushed up together in the dark, upside-down, my feet
above my head. There was but one man in my carriage, and we didn't
get foul of one another, and found we were all right, when we
scrambled out of the window. So we helped out the others, and found
that, besides the engineer and stoker--who I don't suppose can live,
poor fellows!--there was only this man much damaged. Then, when
there seemed no more to be done, I took my bag and walked across
country, to reach home before you heard. But oh, this is worth
anything!"

He had to bend down for another embrace from his mother whose heart
was very full as she held his bright young healthful face between
her hands, though all she said was, "You have walked eleven miles
and more! You must be half starved!--Anne, my dear, pray let him
have something. He can eat it here."

"I'll see," said Anne, hastening away.

"Oh, don't go, Lenore," cried Frank, springing up. "Stay, I've not
seen you!--M