"Yes, sir; Mrs. Travilla gave it to me on a card, and I have it safe. A letter of introduction too, from Dr. Morton. He says he is not personally acquainted with Dr. Thomson, but knows him well by reputation, and if anybody can help me he can." "That is encouraging, and I hope you will have no difficulty in finding the place. It is in the next street and only a few squares from here." Sally thought she could find it readily; Mrs. Travilla had given her very careful directions about the streets and numbers in Philadelphia; besides, she could inquire if she were at a loss. When Mr. Ross returned home, he brought some one with him at sight of whom the Ion children uttered a joyous cry, and who stepping from the carriage, caught their mother in his arms and held her to his heart, as if he meant never to let her go. "Papa! papa!" cried the children, "we did not know you were coming; mamma did not tell us. Mamma, did you know?" "Yes, mamma had known; they saw it in her smiling eyes; and now they knew why it was that she had watched and listened so eagerly for the coming of the carriage; even more so than Aunt Lucy, who was expecting Uncle Philip, and who was very fond of him too. But then he had left her only the other day, and mamma and papa had been parted for weeks." Mr. Travilla had rented a furnished cottage at Cape May and come to take them all there. The doctors thought that would be best for Lily now. The young folks were greatly pleased, and ready to start at once; they had enjoyed their visit to the Crags, but had missed papa sadly, and now they would have him with them all the time, grandpa and the whole family from the Oaks, too; for they were occupying an adjoining cottage. And the delicious salt sea breeze, oh, how pleasant it would be! Mrs. Ross was sorry to part with her guests, had hoped to keep her friend with her all summer, but a good deal comforted in her disappointment, by the knowledge that her mother, Sophie and her children would soon take their places. As for young Philip he was greatly vexed and chagrined. "It is really too bad!" he said seeking little Elsie out, and taking a seat by her side. She was on the porch at some little distance from the others, and busied in turning over the pages of a new book her papa had brought her. "What is too bad, Phil?" she asked, closing it, and giving her full attention to him. "That you must be hurried away so soon. I've hardly been at home two weeks, and we hadn't seen each other before for two years." "Well a fortnight is a good while. And you will soon have your cousins here--Herbert, Meta----" "Herbert!" he interrupted impatiently, "who cares for him? and Meta, prying, meddling, tell-tale Meta's worse than nobody. But there! don't look so shocked, as if I had said an awfully wicked thing. I really don't hate her at all, though she got me into trouble more than once with grandma and Aunt Sophie that winter we spent at Ashlands. Ah, a bright thought strikes me!"