snowflakes were falling, the only moving thing within range of their
vision.

"Oh, dear, what does keep papa and mamma so long!" cried Vi, impatiently;
"it seems most like a year since they started."

"Oh, no, Vi, not half a day yet!"

"I don't mean it _is_, Eddie, but it does _seem_ like it to me. Elsie, do
you think anything's happened?"

"One of the horses may have lost a shoe," Elsie said, trying to be very
cheerful, and putting her arm round Violet as she spoke. "I remember that
happened once a good while ago. But if mamma were here, don't you know
what she would say, little sister?"

"Yes; 'don't fret; don't meet trouble half way, but trust in God, our
Father, who loves us so dearly, that he will never let any real harm come
to us.'"

"I think our mamma is very wise," remarked Eddie; "so very much wiser than
Aunt Lucy, who gets frightened at every little thing."

"Oh, Eddie dear, would mamma or papa like that?" said Elsie softly.

"Well, it's true," he said reddening.

But they've both told us that unkind remarks should not be made even if
true: unless it is quite necessary."

"Oh, why don't papa and mamma come?" "Oh, I wis dey would! I so tired
watchin' for 'em!" burst out Harold and Herbert, nearly ready to cry.

"Look! look!" cried the others in chorus, "they are coming, the carriage
is just turning in at the gate!"

But it was growing so dark now, and the tiny flakes were coming down so
thick and fast, that none of them were quite sure the carriage was their
own, until it drew up before the door, and two dear familiar forms
alighted and came up the veranda steps.

They were greeted with as joyous a welcome as if they had been absent for
weeks or months, and returned the sweet caresses as lovingly as they were
bestowed, smiling tenderly upon each darling of their hearts.

But almost instantly little Elsie perceived something unusual in the
sweet, fair face she loved so dearly, and was wont to study with such
fond, tender scrutiny.

"Mamma, dear mamma, what is wrong?" she asked.

"A sad accident, daughter," Elsie answered, her voice faltering with
emotion, "poor grandpa and Aunt Enna have been badly hurt."

"Our dear grandpa, mamma?" they all asked, lips and voices tremulous with
grief.

"No, darlings, not my own dear father," the mother answered, with a heart
full of gratitude that it was not he, "but our poor old grandfather who
lives at Roselands."

"My dear little wife, you are too m