Franz Francoise utters a sharp ejaculation, and then as Papa's hand presses upon his arm, he relapses into silence and draws back step by step. "Ah!" cries Mamma, starting with extended hands to seize upon the new-comer; "ah! it's our own dear girl!" But Leslie repulses the proffered embrace, and moves aside. "Wait," she says coldly; "wait." And she looks inquiringly at Franz. "You do not know how and why I come." "No matter why you come, dear child,"--it is Papa, speaking in his oiliest accents--"we are glad to see you; very glad." Again Leslie's eyes rest upon Franz, and Mamma says: "Oh, speak out, my dear. This is our boy, Franz; your brother, my child." "Yes," Papa chimes in blithely, "how beautiful this is; how delightful!" Leslie favors Franz with a steady look, and turns to Mamma. "Then I am not your only child," she says, with a proud curl of the lip. And Mamma, seeing the look on her face, regrets, for the once, the presence of her beloved Prodigal. But Franz has quite recovered himself, and moving a trifle nearer the group by the door, he mutters, seemingly for his own benefit, "well, this let's me out!" Hearing which, Mamma glances from Franz to Leslie, and spreading out her two bony palms in a sort of "bless-you-my-children" gesture, says theatrically: "Ah-h, you were too young to remember each other; at least _you_ were too young to remember Franzy. But _he_ don't forget you; do you, Franzy, my boy? You don't forget Leschen--little Leschen?" "Don't I though?" mutters Franz under his breath, and then he moves forward with an unsteady lurch, saying aloud: "Eh? oh, Leschen: little Leschen. Why in course I--I remember." "Ah!" cries Mamma with enthusiasm, "many's the time you've rocked her, when she wasn't two years old." "Franzy was allers good 'bout sech things," chimes in Papa. "Umph!" grunts Franz, turning to Papa, "where's she been?" "My boy," replies Papa impressively, "Leschen's been living like a lady ever since she was adopted away from us. Of course you can't remember each other much, but ye ort to be civil to yer sister." "That's a fact," assents Franz, coming quite close to Leslie. "Say, Leschen, don't ye be afraid o' me; I kin see that ye don't like my looks much. Say, can't ye remember me at all?" A full moment Leslie scans him from head to foot, with a look of proud disdain. Then turning towards Mamma, she says bitterly: "I am more fortunate than I hoped to be." "Ain't ye, now?" chimes in Franz cheerfully. "Say, ye look awful peaked." And he hastens to fetch a chair, his feet almost tripping in the act. "There," he says, placing it beside her, "sit down, do, an' tell us the news." She sinks wearily upon the proffered seat, and again turns her face toward Mamma. "Yes," she says coldly, "let me tell my news, since this is a _family_ gathering. You have deplored my loss so often that I have returned. I have come to live with you."