quired all his efforts to conceal. As for Lucy,
when the time came, she regretted ever having thought of going
without her husband and child; but she was ashamed to let her real
feelings be known. So she kept on a show of indifference, all the
while that her heart was fluttering. The "good-bye" finally said,
the driver cracked his whip, and off rolled the stage. Gray turned
homeward with a dull, lonely feeling, and Lucy drew her vail over
her face to conceal the unbidden tears from her fellow-passengers.

That night, poor Mr. Gray slept but little. How could he? His Lucy
was absent, and for the first time, from his side. On the next
morning, as he could think of nothing but his wife, he sat down and
wrote to her, telling her how lost and lonely he felt, and how much
little Lucy missed her, but still to try and enjoy herself, and by
all means to write him a letter by return mail.

As for Mrs. Gray, during her journey of two whole days, she cried
fully half the time, and when she got "home" at last, that is, at
her father's, she looked the picture of distress, rather than the
daughter full of joy at meeting her parents.

Right glad were the old people to see their dear child, but grieved
at the same time, and a little hurt too, at her weakness and evident
regret at having left her husband, to make them a brief visit. The
real pleasure that Lucy felt at once more seeing the faces of her
parents, whom she tenderly loved, was not strong enough to subdue
and keep in concealment, except for a very short period at a time,
her yearning desire again to be with her husband, for whom she never
before experienced a feeling of such deep and earnest affection.
Several times during the first day of her visit, did her mother
find, her in tears, which she would quickly dash aside, and then
endeavour to smile and seem cheerful.

The day after her arrival brought her a letter--the first she had
ever received from her husband. How precious was every word! How
often and often did she read it over, until every line was engraven
on her memory! Then she sat down, and spent some two or three hours
in replying to it. As she sealed this first epistle to her husband,
full of tender expressions, she sighed as the wish arose in her
mind, involuntarily, to go with it on its journey to the village
of ----.

Long were the hours, and wearily passed, to Henry Gray. It was the
sixth day of trial, before Lucy's answer came. How dear to his heart
was