About noon they reached Mr. Middleton’s, where they were received very kindly by Mrs. Middleton, very joyfully by Fanny, and very coldly by Julia, whose face always wore a darker frown whenever Mr. Miller was present; but he apparently did not notice it, and went on conversing upon different subjects. At last he asked when Mr. Middleton was expected home. "I am expecting him every day," said Mrs. Middleton, "and," she added in a lower tone, "I almost dread to have him come, for I do not know that he has ever heard a word of Richard’s illness and death." "Why, have you never written to him?" asked Mr. Miller. "Yes," replied she; "but it is so uncertain as to what place he is in, or how long he will remain there, that it is doubtful whether he ever received the letter. We heard from him a few days ago. He was then in Indiana, and as he said nothing about Mr. Wilmot, I presume he has not heard of his death." Just as she had finished speaking, the dogs set up a great barking, and the negroes uttered the joyful cry of "Marster’s come! Marster’s come!" The family ran to the door to meet him; but Fanny could not wait for him to enter the house, neither could she stop to unfasten the gate, but clearing it with one bound, she was soon in the arms of her father, who uttered his usual, "Ha, ha," and said, "Well done, darling; you’ll do for a cirkis rider. Are you glad to see your old pap?" The blacks then gathered round, and he shook hands with all, saying, "How d’ye, boys? How d’ye? Have you worked right smart since I’ve been gone? If you have, you may have a play spell the rest of the arternoon." So saying, he entered the house, where after greeting his wife, Julia and Mr. Miller, he was introduced to "Miss Wilmot." He took her hand and looking at her for a moment, said, "Wilmot, Wilmot! Are you Dick’s sister?" Kate’s eyes filled with tears as she exclaimed, "Yes, sir, Richard was my brother." "Richard was your brother! Great Moses! What does this mean? And you in black and crying!" Then looking at his wife, who was also in tears, he added impatiently, "What in thun—" but instantly recollecting himself, he said more gently, "Can’t anybody tell me what has happened?" And the old man’s cheek paled, and his voice trembled, as the dread of what might have happened stole over him. Fanny at last went up to him and said softly, "Father, Mr. Wilmot is dead!"