Dear Sister:—I write in great haste to tell you of little Annie’s accident, and that you must come out and see her, if only for a few days. It happened the week after mother died. Her foot must have slipped, or hit on something, and she fell from the top of the stairs to the bottom, and hurt her back or hip; I hardly think the doctor knew which, or in fact what to do for her. She cannot walk a step, and lies all day in bed, or sits in her chair, with no other company than old Aunt Luna, who is faithful and kind. But Annie wants you and talks of you all the time, and last night, when I got home from the store, she told me she had written to you, and gave me this bit of paper, which I inclose. “And now, Georgie, do come if possible, and come at once. There are so many things I want to consult you about now that mother is gone. I can ill afford to lose the time; but if you will start the —th day of October, I will meet you in Buffalo, so that you will not have far to travel alone. I shall expect your answer, saying yes. “Your brother, JACK.” This letter, or rather the slip of paper it contained, had taken Georgie Burton to Buffalo, and on to Iona, where the accident occurred. She might have resisted Jack’s appeal, and thought it one of his scares, and that Annie was not much hurt, and would do well enough with the old negress, Luna; but Annie’s letter was a different thing from Jack’s, and Georgie wept passionately when she read it. It was a little child’s letter, and some of the words were printed, for Annie was just beginning to learn to write of Jack, who was her teacher in all things. “Dear sister Gorgy,” the note began, “mother is dead and I’ve hurted my back and have to ly all day stil, and it do ake so hard, and I’me so streemly lonesome, and want to see my sweet, pretty sister so much. I ask Jack if you will come and he don’t b’leeve you will, and then I ’members my mother say, ask Jesus if you want anything, and I does ask him and tell him my back akes, and mother’s gone to live with him. And I want to see you, and won’t he send you to me for Christ’s sake, amen. And I know he will. Come, Gorgy, pleas, and bring me some choklets. “ANNIE HEYFORD.” Georgie could not withstand that appeal, and when Mrs. Burton tried to dissuade her from going, she paid no heed whatever. Indeed, she scarcely heard what her mother was saying, for her thoughts were far away with a little golden-haired child, for whom she stowed away in her trunk the chocolates asked for, and the waxen doll and the picture book and pretty puzzle found that day at the shop in the little town near Oakwood.