e is nearly run; it may be so with others; it must be
so with them.

There have been gains and losses, sickness and other afflictions, but
death has not yet entered any of their homes.

At Ion, the emerald, velvety lawn, the grand old trees, the sparkling
lakelet, the flower gardens and conservatories gay with rich autumn hues,
were looking their loveliest, in the light of a fair September morning.

The sun was scarcely an hour high, and except in the region of the
kitchen and stables quiet reigned within and without the mansion; doors
and windows stood wide open, and servants were busied here and there
cleaning and setting in order for the day, but without noise or bustle. In
the avenue before the front entrance, stood Solon with the pretty grey
ponies, Prince and Princess, ready saddled and bridled, while on the
veranda sat a tall, dark-eyed, handsome youth, a riding whip in one hand,
the other gently stroking and patting the head of Bruno, as it rested on
his knee; the dog receiving the caress with demonstrations of delight.

A light, springing step passed down the broad stairway, crossed the hall,
and a slender fairy-like form appeared in the doorway. It was Violet, now
thirteen, and already a woman in height; though the innocent childlike
trust in the sweet fair face and azure eyes, told another tale.

"Good-morning, Eddie," she said. "I am sorry to have kept you waiting."

"Oh, good-morning," he cried, jumping up and turning toward her. "No need
for apology, Vi, I've not been here over five minutes."

He handed her gallantly to the saddle, then mounted himself.

"Try to cheer up, little sister; one should not be sad such a lovely
morning as this," he said, as they trotted down the avenue side by side.

"Oh, Eddie," she answered, with tears in her voice, "I do try, but I
can't yet; it isn't like home without them."

"No; no indeed, Vi; how could it be? Mr. and Mrs. Daly are very kind, yet
not in the least like our father and mother; but it would be impossible
for any one to take their places in our hearts or home."

"The only way to feel at all reconciled, is to keep looking forward to the
delight of seeing them return with our darling Lily well and strong," Vi
said, struggling bravely with her tears; and Eddie answered, "I cannot
help hoping that may be, in spite of all the discouraging things the
doctors have said."

Lily, always frail and delicate, had drooped more and more during the past
year, and