"Oh, tell me," asked Marjorie, eagerly, "am I dreaming, or have I been dreaming? Is this really my room, and if it is, wasn't there any fire, and if there was, how--" "There, there, my dear," answered a soft pleasant voice, "you are very wide-awake again, I am glad to see, and this is your own home, and there was a fire; and if you will lie very quiet, and not ask any more questions, you can see your brother Jack in a little while, and a little later your father, when he comes home." "And--and are you--are you--" faltered Marjorie. "Oh, I am Miss Farley, the hospital nurse. Now lie still, dear, and don't bother your head about anything." "I won't," responded Marjorie, with a contented smile. "I thought maybe you were a step-mother." In the afternoon Marjorie was so much better that Miss Farley let Jack spend quite a while by her bedside, while he told everything that had happened. "My eye!" said he, "you must have given your head a terrible crack when you fell from the steps. I can tell you father and I and Hetty were scared. That was three weeks ago. Just think of that. You've had brain-fever, and all sorts of things. But Dr. Scott and Miss Farley pulled you through in great shape. The best thing was that father could have you put right into an ambulance and brought here. Say, what do you suppose he has been up to all these months? Why, he's been having this dear old house rebuilt just exactly as it was before the fire; and there was a lot more furniture and things saved than you and I thought, and he has had it all put back in the old places, and he has bought everything he could get exactly like what was burned, and what he couldn't buy he has had made so that you'd think it was the same identical thing. He used to come here afternoons and boss the workmen about, and in the evening he'd come here alone and arrange things in the old places. Say, isn't it just fine! and he never said a word about it, so that he could have it for a surprise for you on your birthday. It was all ready the day you got hurt, so he had you brought right here, and yesterday was your birthday, so that it came out just as he had hoped, after all." "Where's Hetty?" asked Marjorie, after a short pause. "Hetty? Oh, she married the milkman, and left without warning the day we moved in here," said Jack. "Papa," said Marjorie, as she lay holding his hand as he sat beside her that afternoon, after she had thanked him for his beautiful birthday present, "papa, you're not going to bring anybody here to take mamma's place, are you?" "No, my pet," replied Mr. Mason, as he bent and kissed her cheek. "Nobody in the world can ever do that; but nobody in the world can come so near it as her dear little daughter." LAURIE VANE, BRAKEMAN. BY MOLLY ELLIOT SEAWELL.