"As soon as my wark is done in America, I will gang to my ain people, for I hae greeted sair for them; but my wark is na finished yet; fare ye weel, ma'am, I shall see ye ance mair," and Elsie took her departure. Mrs. Douglass returned to New York, and still continued her advertisements, for it was all that she could do. After she had been there some months, a note reached her from a family in Newark, requesting her to call, as they could give her some information with regard to the person of whom she was in search. Mr. and Mrs. Antrim were a Scotch couple living quietly outside of Newark, having resided for twenty years in America--Mrs. Antrim, a neat, elderly person, received Mrs. Douglass cordially. "I saw your advertisement, madam, and it struck me that I might give you some information concerning your lost friend." "It is my brother, madam, wha is subject to fits of derangement, an' wha I think is in America." Mrs. Antrim described a mysterious man who had long lived in their neighborhood. Mrs. Douglass listened with deep interest, for she was sure that she had found her brother. "When was he here last, Mrs. Antrim?" she inquired. "Last Monday, and said that he would come this week." "Can ye accommodate me wi' board for a few weeks?" "I think that we can; we are not in the habit of taking lodgers, but if it will be the means of bringing this poor man back to his family, I will do it cheerfully." "I dread seeing him, Mrs. Antrim, for if he kens the face o' his sister, he will ne'er come again." "We must be very cautious; do not address him, Mrs. Douglass, take no notice of him. I have a little grandson of whom he is very fond; he is the only one that can make him talk; we must watch for opportunities." Mrs. Douglass provided herself with a pair of green spectacles, and a very plain Quaker dress, that completely metamorphosed her, for the bonnet so entirely hid her face, that her own relations would not have recognized her; this she was to wear whenever the strange visitor should appear. In a few days, Mrs. Antrim came up to Mrs. Douglass' room. "He is coming, you had better change your dress." Mrs. Douglass did not appear until tea-time; she then quietly took her seat at the table, and had time to scrutinize the strange guest. Years had made great changes; the tall form was bent, the black hair was thin, and streaked with gray, the bright eye was dim and wandering, the once rich, dark complexion sallow, and the cheeks hollow and shrivelled; an uncertain flickering smile played around the lips once so stern and firm; but there was no mistaking Stephen Bruce--there was the marked finger, the same voice, and the remains of the same brother that had once sat by her side at her father's board. He talked but little, for he saw that there was a stranger present. The little grandson was at the table.