“There is a hack coming up the avenue, Eva.  Can we be going to have a visitor this stormy day?” suddenly exclaimed the eldest boy, glancing out of the window near where he stood.  “Yes, it has come to a standstill at the foot of the veranda steps, and the driver seems to be getting ready to help someone out.”

“A lady!  Why, who can she be?” cried Eric, the next in age, as the hack door was thrown open and the driver assisted his passenger to alight, while Evelyn laid down her work and hastened into the hall to greet and welcome the guest, whoever she might be; for the Fairview family, like nearly every other in that region of country, was exceedingly hospitable.

A servant had already opened the outer door and now another stepped forward to take the lady’s satchel and umbrella.

“Who can she be?” Evelyn asked herself as she hastily crossed the veranda and held out a welcoming hand with a word or two of pleasant greeting.

“Is it you, Evelyn?” asked the stranger in tones that trembled with emotion.  “And do you not know me—­your own mother!”

“Mother; oh, mother, can it be you?” cried Evelyn, catching the stranger in her arms and holding her fast with sobs and tears and kisses.  “I had not heard from you for so long, and have been feeling as if I should never see you again.  And oh, how thin and weak you look!  You are sick, mother!” she added in tones of grief and anxiety, as she drew her into the hall, where by this time the rest of the family—­Grandma Elsie, and Mr. and Mrs. Leland and their children—­were gathered.

“Sister Laura! is it possible!  Welcome to Fairview,” was Mrs. Leland’s greeting, accompanied by a warm embrace.

“Laura! we did not even know you were in America!” Mr. Leland said, grasping her hand in brotherly fashion.  “And how weary and ill you are looking!  Let me help you off with your bonnet and cloak and to a couch here in the parlour.”

“Thank you; yes, I’ll be very glad to lie down, for I’m worn out with my journey and this troublesome cough,” she said, struggling with a renewed paroxysm and gasping for breath.  “But my luggage and——­”

“We’ll attend to all that,” he said, half carrying her to the couch where his wife and her mother were arranging the pillows for her comfort, and laying her gently down upon it.

“Oh, mother; my poor dear mother!” sighed Evelyn, as she leaned over her, smoothing her hair with caressing hand, “it breaks my heart to see you looking so weary and ill.  But we will soon nurse you back to health and strength—­uncle and aunt and I.”

“I hope so, indeed,” Mrs. Leland said in her sweet, gentle tones.  “You have had most unpleasant weather for your journey, Laura, so that it is not to be wondered at that you are exhausted.  You must have some refreshment at once,” and with the last word she hastened away in search of it.

“And here is something to relieve that dreadful cough,” said Mrs. Travilla, presenting herself with a delicate china cup in her hand.