s destination brimful of news
and excitement.

"All well, I hope?" asked his father, who, with his aunt, met him in the
hall on his arrival.

"Oh yes, father, it's all well, and a deal better than all well--it's
all best." Then the three gathered round the fire in Mr Huntingdon's
library, and Walter told his story. Deep was the emotion of Mr
Huntingdon and his sister, and deeper still their thankfulness, when
they heard of the happy conclusion of the terrible and exciting meeting
between Amos and his brother-in-law.

"And you did nobly and wisely yourself, my dear boy," said the squire.
"I believe you have given that wretched scoundrel his quietus so far as
we are concerned.--And what of your poor sister? Are we to expect her
soon?"

"That's what I've got to write to Amos about," replied his son. "As
soon as you are ready to receive her she will be only too thankful to
come."

"Let her come at once--write by this night's post," cried his father in
an agitated voice. "Poor dear child, I long to welcome her back again;
and I think, if I am not mistaken, that your aunt has been making some
quiet preparations, so that it will not be inconvenient to you, Kate,
for her to come at once, will it?"

"Not in the least," replied his sister; "I have been earnestly hoping
and praying for this."

"And what about the children?" said her brother; "we must make room for
them too, poor things. We can't keep the mother and her children
separate."

"Of course not, dear Walter," replied Miss Huntingdon; "we shall be
quite prepared to receive them also, though they are at present not with
their mother, but under Amos's charge."

"Ah, I remember," said her brother; "well, we can send for them too,
when the poor child herself has got here."

"Am I to write all that?" asked Walter.

"Oh, certainly," was the reply.

"Then hip, hip, hurrah forty-four thousand times! And now I will write
the letter; and then I'll have a fine bit of fun with Harry." So the
letter was written and duly posted that evening; and Walter, after he
had finished it, betook himself to the butler's pantry.

"Harry," he said to the worthy old servant, who, wash-leather in hand,
was burnishing the plate with all the solemnity of one engaged in some
very serious and responsible undertaking, "what do you think?"

"Well, Master Walter, I think a good many things."

"I daresay you do. But what do you think _now_?"

"Why, pretty much what I've been th