At length they separated, some going in one direction, some in another.  Lora went to Louise, Rose to her father’s, Mrs. and Mr. Travilla to friends in Cincinnati and its suburbs, and Elsie to pay a long-promised visit to Lucy in her married home, a beautiful country-seat on the banks of the Hudson.  Her father saw her safely there, then left her for a fortnight; their fears in regard to Jackson having been allayed by the news that he had been again arrested for burglary, and Lucy and her husband promising to guard their precious charge with jealous care.

At the end of the fortnight Mr. Dinsmore returned for his daughter, and they went on together to Lansdale to visit Miss Stanhope.

Elsie had set her heart on having her dear old aunt spend the fall and winter with them in the “sunny South,” and especially on her being present at the wedding; and Miss Stanhope, after much urging and many protestations that she was too old for such a journey, had at last yielded, and given her promise, on condition that her nephew and niece should come for her, and first spend a week or two in Lansdale.  She entreated that Mr. Travilla and his mother might be of the party.  “He was a great favorite of hers, and she was sure his mother must be a woman in a thousand.”

They accepted the kindness as cordially as it was proffered; met the others at the nearest point of connection, and all arrived together.

It was not Lottie King who met them at the depot this time, but a fine-looking young man with black moustache and roguish dark eye, who introduced himself as Harry Duncan, Miss Stanhope’s nephew.

“Almost a cousin!  Shall we consider you quite one?” asked Mr. Dinsmore, warmly shaking the hand held out to him in cordial greeting.

“Thank you, I shall feel highly honored,” the young man answered in a gratified tone, and with a glance of undisguised admiration and a respectful bow directed towards Elsie.  Then turning with an almost reverential air and deeper bow to Mrs. Travilla, “And, madam, may I have the privilege of placing you alongside of my dear old aunt, and addressing you by the same title?”

“You may, indeed,” was the smiling rejoinder.  “And my son here, I suppose, will take his place with the others as cousin.  No doubt we are all related, if we could only go back far enough in tracing out our genealogies.”

“To Father Adam, for instance,” remarked Mr. Travilla, laughingly.

“Or good old Noah, or even his son Japheth,” rejoined Harry, leading the way to a family carriage sufficiently roomy to hold them all comfortably.

“Your checks, if you please, aunt and cousins; and Simon here will attend to your luggage.  Servants’ also.”

Elsie turned her head to see a young colored man, bowing, scraping, and grinning from ear to ear, in whom she perceived a faint resemblance to the lad Simon of four years ago.

“You hain’t forgot me, miss?” he said.  “I’m still at de ole place wid Miss Wealthy.”