Frankie Hedge expressed no feeling of disappointment when his mother returned without Fannie. “I knew she wouldn’t come,” said he to her as she entered the room, after removing her rich cloak and furs. “I told papa she wouldn’t come. I saw her papa again a few moments ago, and there was a lady with him with such a sweet, pretty face. It made me think of you, mamma, it looked so kind and good, and then I knew Fannie’s mamma was dead and that was her.” Mrs. Hedge kissed her little boy, and said she thought Fannie would come by-and-bye, after the funeral of her mother’s body. “Oh, yes, she will come, mamma; her papa told me so, and I can wait, because I’m not going to leave you for some time yet. I saw dear grandma last night, and she kissed me and said: ‘Not till the March winds blow, my lamb, will we be ready to take you to our spirit home.’” The eyes of the listening parents filled with tears; they knew their darling was traveling fast to the Summer-land, yet they did not grieve as some people grieve when their loved ones pass away; for they knew he could come back to them. They did not think he was dreaming, as the doctor did, when he talked of seeing Fannie’s papa and his own grandma, because they knew the angels are ever around striving to make their presence known to their friends. In three days Fannie Davis was brought to the home of Frankie Hedge. Poor little thing! how her eyes lighted up at the sight of the little boy waiting anxiously to receive her. What an affectionate meeting was this! You would have thought it a meeting between a long-lost brother and sister; but the angels knew and understood. Both children had changed since that long past summer day when they met and parted. For while Frankie had grown pale and wan from pain and weakness, Fannie had lost her rosy cheeks and sparkling eyes from long confinement and grief from the illness and death of her mother. Nothing would satisfy Frankie Hedge now but a promise that Fannie should stay with him while he remained in the body, and this desire was granted. Sorrow of her own had filled the heart of Mrs. Hedge with pity and sympathy, which soon grew into love for the little orphan; and Mr. Hedge, who declared Fannie looked very much like a little sister of his who passed away many years ago, took her into his heart at once. A little room, opening off the hall where Frankie’s chamber was situated, was fitted up for little Fannie. A beautiful carpet of blue ground, with white lilies strewn upon it, covered the floor; a tiny bed of spotless linen and lace, pretty furniture of blue and white, a few pretty pictures upon the pink-tinted walls, and blue and white curtains at the window, completed the furnishing of the room. This apartment was a continued charm to our little girl. Never in her life had she beheld anything so beautiful, and she would sometimes hold her breath and pinch her arm, to see if she was not dreaming.