the house by a back entrance, and, concealed amid the shrubbery, stood trembling and weeping.  The lamps had been lighted, and from the windows of the dining-room a bright ray shone out upon the lawn, seeming almost to reach the place where the child was hidden.  Within was a pleasant little group gathered around the tea-table.  To her great surprise, Nelly discovered her mother busily engaged in arranging upon a waiter covered with a white napkin a nice supper, while grandmamma added a cup of steaming tea.  Winnie stood by as if waiting to carry supper to somebody, but Nelly was puzzled to know for whom it was intended.  Just then, however, the gate-bell rang loudly.  Winnie hurriedly caught up the waiter and disappeared as the opposite door opened to admit farmer Dale.  His first words seemed greatly to disturb and alarm the ladies.  Grandmamma quickly arose with a cry of grief and horror.  Mrs. Grey stood motionless, her eyes fixed on the farmer’s face, her hands pressed to her heart.

Nelly could bear no more.  Rushing impetuously into the house, she threw both her arms around her frightened mother, crying,—­

“Oh, mamma, grandmamma, I am not lost, but I have been so naughty.  I wanted you so, and I ran away.  Oh, let me stay; please let me stay.”

The mother sank into a chair, her arms instinctively enfolding her naughty child, but she did not kiss or welcome her.  Grandmamma, too, looked very grave and troubled.  After a few minutes of painful silence, the farmer took his leave, saying,—­

“I’ll leave you to settle with the little one.  I must make haste to relieve my wife’s anxiety.”

After his departure, the penitent nestled more closely to her mother.  She felt sure of her love and forgiveness, and hoped that grandmamma might not be too severe, although she fully expected a good scolding and some kind of punishment besides, which she meant to bear quite meekly.  To her surprise, neither mentioned her fault.  Her mother seemed to be thinking of something else, and Nelly did not at all understand the queer looks which passed between the ladies.  At last Winnie put her head in the door, evidently to deliver some message, for she began, “Mars—­,” when Mrs. Grey started up suddenly, saying,—­

“Oh, Winnie, here is our Nelly,” while the child sprang forward to throw herself on the breast of her astonished nurse.

“De Lawd er Massy!  Whar dat chile cum from dis time o’ nite?”

“Why, Winnie,” explained grandmamma, “she has run away from the farm, and here she is.  Did you ever hear of such badness?”

“Dah, now!” cried the negro, “didn’t I tole you dat?  I jest know dat chile wasn’t gwine to stay nowhar ‘dout her mar an’ me.  Po’ chile, she look mity bad, ’deed she do.”

“Well, Winnie, never mind that now, she is only tired; let her eat her supper and go to bed.”

Nelly had expected, at the very least, to be sent supperless to bed, but instead, grandma gave her all she could eat, and, but for the strange preoccupied manner which so puzzled her, the child would have been very comfortable.  When, led by her mamma and attended by Winnie, she went up-stairs she found that her couch had been removed into her grandmamma’s room.  “You will be better here,” explained Mrs. Grey, “for I am very restless and might disturb you.”