“Your horse! Your horse, doctor! Can I have your horse to-night?” “‘A horse! A horse! my kingdom for a horse!’ Why, what the deuce is the matter now? Who’s killed? Who’s wounded?” “Oh, doctor, no jesting. This is serious—this is terrible. Only—quick!—can I have your horse?” “Certainly, certainly, Hugh. But tell me, in one word, what’s the matter?” “My mother, my long-lost mother, is found, and at Mount Calm, but ill and dying, I fear. There! read Nettie’s letter, while I saddle the horse. I must ride at once to the village—the mail stage starts from there at ten o’clock. I must go in it,” said Hugh, hastening out. Mrs. Garnet and Elsie gathered around Dr. Hardcastle, while he read the following letter: “MOUNT CALM, March 1, 18—. “DEAREST HUGH: Wherever you are, and whatever may be your engagements, drop them at once, and hasten to Mount Calm. Your long-lost mother is found—she is here with me, but very, very ill of brain fever. Hasten. There are other things, too, dear Hugh, of which I cannot write now, but of which you will hear when you come. I write in haste and agitation, but, indeed, I am, as much as ever, “Your affectionate sister, “NETTIE.” “Strange! most strange!” said Mrs. Garnet. “And most unsatisfactory,” observed Elsie. “We shall know no more, however, until Hugh writes us from Mount Calm. Here he comes! How quick he has been!” said the doctor, going to meet Hugh as he entered. “You know, Hugh, how much I feel with you about this. Let me know now if in any way I can be of service to you.” “Oh, my friend, I know all your goodness. But do you know how much my secret heart has ever been filled with the desire of finding my mother? I could never hope to find her, but still, from my boyhood, the thought of seeing her has haunted me like the dream of an impossible good; and now she is found, but——” Hugh’s voice broke down, and he covered his face with his hands. “Hope for the best, Hugh. You used to be hopeful. And, oh, Hugh, be sure that we feel your trouble as if it were our own. It is our own,” said Elsie, laying her hand gently upon him. “My horse is ready. I only run in to say good-by; good-by, dear friends. Good-by, Mrs. Garnet—pray that I may not be too late! Good-by, Mrs. Hardcastle—give my love to the dear children when they ask for me to-morrow. Good-by, Dr. Hardcastle, my best friend. I will write to you from Mount Calm,” said Hugh, shaking and squeezing hands right and left, and then preparing to hasten out. “Aint you going to take your great-coat?” asked the doctor, holding it up. “Yes, yes; I had forgotten it. I haven’t time to put it on. I can throw it upon the horse,” exclaimed Hugh, hurriedly throwing the garment over his arm. “Once more, good-by to all.”