“I am stronger, madam, and more erect, thanks to the mountain air and your bounty,” said John, as he respectfully received and bowed over the little hand held out to him. Em. placed a chair for her father, and as he sat down upon it she took his hat from his hands and carried it out to the tree in the hall. At the same moment Emolyn touched a bell that brought her page to her presence. “Order luncheon to be served at once,” she said. The young Mercury flew on his errand. Emolyn filled up the short interval by talking to her visitor about the old Wilderness manor-house and its historical associations. And then the boy returned and announced the repast in readiness. “Come, friends,” said Emolyn, drawing the arm of her young namesake within her own and leading the way, followed by John and Susan. The lady conducted her guests through a suite of sumptuous rooms, each succeeding one seeming more splendid than the other, until at length they reached a small but elegant dining-room, in the midst of which stood the lunch-table, laid for four, covered with the finest white damask, furnished with Sèvres china, Bohemian glass and silver, and provided with substantial fare, as well as with delicate viands. The lady of the house made Em. sit on her right hand, on one side of the oval table, while John and Susan sat opposite on the other side. The young page waited on the party. The unaffected kindness and simplicity of Emolyn’s manner put her visitors quite at their ease, so that perhaps never was a repast more enjoyed than was this lunch by John and Susan. As for Em., girl-like, she keenly appreciated dainty items in the feast—the potted meats and fish, the West India preserves and fruits and the French confections and chocolate. When the collation was over Emolyn led her friends back to the parlor, and calling her little page to her, said: “I want you to tell Pony to come here and see an old acquaintance.” The boy left the room, and the party in the parlor had scarcely settled into their seats when the door opened and a tall, stout, handsome mulatto woman, becomingly dressed in a scarlet French calico, with a black silk apron, white collar and cuffs, white turban and large gold hoop earrings, entered. “Why, Pony! Oh, Pony, I am _so_ delighted to see you!” gushed Susan, starting up and holding out her hand to the newcomer. “So is I, you, Mrs. Palmer! ’Pon my word, how well you does look, to be sure!” exclaimed the woman, heartily shaking the offered hand. “Is that young gal your darter?” she then inquired, turning her bright black eyes on the girl. “Yes—that’s Em.! named after your mistress, Pony. Come here, Em. and get acquainted with the best friend I ever had in the world except Miss Wyndeworth,” continued Susan, beckoning to her daughter. Em. came up and offered her hand, saying: