"What an old man I must be," said the gentleman, as he released them, "to have three such grown-up people for nephews and nieces! And it seems only the other day since Eric and I, and you too, Linda, were no bigger. Yet they were all born after I went away. Such a little time!" "But many sad things have happened since then, Alfred. It seems to me a very long time since your brother Eric went away never to come back, and left me to battle with the world with no one to help me feed and educate his children." There was a slight tone of reproach in the widow's tone as she said this, but the returned brother did not seem to notice it, as he said reverently:-- "No one but God. You would have told me in the old days when I didn't believe it or care for it that you could not have a better or more efficient friend; and now that I do believe it, I am sure that you have found it true." "Yes, I have," said the mother, looking with thankful pride upon her well-grown boys, and bright and healthy, if diminutive, little girl. "God has been very good to us, and I have every reason to think well of his protecting care." "And the children," said their uncle, "have they too learned to trust in their Saviour and do his will?" "Eric and Katie have. Alfred is, I am afraid, a little too much like his uncle of old times." "I am sorry to hear that. He loses so much of the joy of youth and the strength of growing up into true manliness. I hope he will never have cause to be as sorry as his uncle is that he did not give his Saviour 'the kindness of his youth.' But we will have plenty of time to talk about all these things by-and-by. Just now I am as anxious for my supper as these young folks must be. I remember of old, Linda, what a good supper you can give a hungry traveler, and I don't suppose I need an invitation." "Why, no!" said his hostess, with a little flush of embarrassment. "Only you must prepare yourself for a somewhat large tea-party, and not of a very aristocratic kind. For, you know, I keep a sort of factory boarding-house." "One who has camped with California miners is not likely to be very fastidious," said Mr. Robertson. "But I suspect if your boarders are companions of this niece of mine, they will be good enough company for me." CHAPTER XXV. OUT INTO THE WORLD. "So you wouldn't like to be my little girl and go to school and be educated for a lady," said Mr. Alfred Robertson to his niece, a few days after he had made his unexpected appearance among his relatives. "I'd like to go to school and study, of course," said Katie. "Uncle, don't think me very rude or ungrateful, but I wish you would send Alfred." "Why, rather than yourself?" "Because Alfred is a boy, and he wants to be a doctor like father. He never told mother, because he thought it would make her feel badly. He knew she hadn't any money to send him to school or college, so he just worked on at the mill, though I know he hates it."