Mark had driven out to meet him, and the little woman scanned again and again the broad bosom of the plain for a sight of the returning carriage. The grass was dry and golden in the sunlight and her eyes ached from the reflected brightness as, shading them with her hand, she stood for the fiftieth time before the cabin door and sought to trace the slender thread of roadway. “Alice, I am sure there is some one coming,” she cried at last, as a brown speck became visible against the horizon. Alice came and looked over her shoulder. “It is only Jackson, the mail-carrier, I am afraid,” Alice replied. “You know, dearie, Mark would be detained for a little time, while Jackson has hastened directly here. You must not look too much upon Horace’s coming to-night, for the train may have been delayed or many things may have happened to detain him.” The letter-box was fastened at the roadside nearly opposite Mark’s house, but seeing Alice in the doorway, Jackson threw his package of mail to her and galloped on to the next post. “Here is a letter for you, dear,” said Alice as she sorted out the mail and came slowly up to the waiting sister. “A letter? And from Horace, too! He must have written before he started.” And her bright eyes glanced eagerly over the sheet she had hurriedly opened. “Oh, merciful Heaven!” The cry startled Alice, and she turned to see Elinor stagger as if stricken by a blow and then sink in a limp and helpless heap upon the ground. “Why, Elinor! Nellie! What is it?” cried Alice, running to her and lifting the poor fallen head in her arms. “My poor Nellie! Is it bad news? Tell me!” she implored, while she rubbed the pulseless wrists and tried to arouse her to consciousness. “Mamma, mamma!” cried little Robbie, frantic with alarm, trying to open her eyes with his little brown fingers. “Mamma! Is she dead?” “No, Robbie, not dead. Oh, my child!” cried Alice; “if Mark would only come!” “Uncle Mark is coming,” cried Robbie, and Alice lifted her head with a silent prayer of thanksgiving as she heard the sound of horses’ footsteps over the soft earth. “How glad I am you’ve come!” she sobbed, as a few moments later he reached her side. “What can have happened to poor Nellie? Some dreadful news, I’m afraid.” Mark lifted the letter, which still remained in her nerveless fingers. An enclosure fell from it to the ground. He picked it up and hastily looked it over. It was evidently a legal document, and as he read the first line his face grew pale with surprise and anger. “Great Scott! What is this! Oh, my poor little girl!” And the great-hearted Mark Cramer turned away his head and groaned aloud. He turned to see Elinor staring at him with rigid eyes, full of wonder. “What has happened, Mark—Alice? Oh, I know, I know!” and again the blue eyes were covered with the heavy eyelids. Then Mark lifted her in his arms, and bearing her as lightly as though she were a child, he carried her into the cabin and laid her upon a couch.