who should be regarded with the tenderest affection. There! we have filled our basket and now we will go back to the house.”

The breakfast-bell rang just as they stepped into the veranda. Violet was there with the three younger children; morning greetings were exchanged, then all repaired to the breakfast-room.

“I think our weary young guest is still sleeping,” Violet said. “I knocked softly at her door and listened for several minutes, but could hear no sound; so thought it best to let her sleep on and give her her breakfast when she wakes of herself.”

“Quite right, my dear,” returned the captain as he lifted baby Ned to his high chair, then seated himself.

He asked a blessing upon their food and the meal began. They were the usual cheerful little family party, chatting pleasantly among themselves while they ate.

As they rose from the table Violet said: “I think I will go to the telephone and have a little chat with mamma while the servants are eating.”

“And may I go with you?” the captain asked with a smile.

“I shall be happy to have you, sir,” she returned with a laughing look up into his face. “The children are welcome to come, too, if they wish.”

At Ion the family were about leaving the breakfast-table when the telephone bell rang. It was answered by Edward. “Hello! who is there? and what’s wanted?”

“It is I. I wish to speak to mamma,” was the reply in Violet’s own sweet tones. “No objections to others hearing, though.”

“Dear me, I hope she isn’t going to say they can’t come to-day!” exclaimed Rosie, while Edward stepped aside and their mother took the place he vacated.

“What is it, Vi?” she asked, and all listened intently for the reply.

“We have a guest, Marian McAlpine—that Minersville young girl you have all heard my husband, Max and Lu speak of.”

“Ah! then bring her with you to-day, if she will come.”

“Thank you, mamma; we will if she is able and willing to accompany us; she was greatly fatigued by her journey and seems to be still sleeping.”

“McAlpine?” exclaimed Mr. Lilburn, standing near. “You and I have some distant relatives of that name, Cousin Elsie. Please ask for the father’s first name.”

“I have heard the captain say his wife called him Willie,” Elsie answered.

“Ah, indeed!” exclaimed Mr. Lilburn, in a tone of some excitement. “I must see the lassie. Please say to Cousin Vi that I will be over there an hour hence. And will you not accompany me, cousin?”

“With pleasure,” she replied, and turning to her father, “Shall we not make up a party, papa?” she asked.

“Yes,” he said. “It is a lovely morning for a drive and we may as well do so, all going who have time and inclination.”

“I wonder if our young guest is awake yet,” Violet said to her husband as they turned away from the telephone. “Shall I send a servant up to see?”

“No, my dear, I think I wouldn’t,” the captain replied. “I told her last night to lie and sleep as late this morning as she would, ring for her breakfast when she was ready to eat it, and it should be carried up to her. Ah! there is her bell now. I will direct that it be taken up at once, and then we will have family worship.”

On coming down nearly an hour later Marian found the family gathered upon the front veranda. The captain rose on her appearance and gallantly handed her to a seat, remarking that she was looking much better and brighter than on her arrival the previous evening.

“Yes, sir,” she said, “and I feel far better. I was very weary with my long journey (what a very big country America is!), but I slept well and am almost rested now.”

Just then a carriage was seen to turn in at the gates opening upon the high-road. Ned greeted its approach with a shout of delight.

“Gan’ma tumin’! gan’ma tumin’. Oh, I so blad, I so blad!”

“Yes, Neddie boy, we are always glad to see dear grandma,” said his father. “Grandpa Dinsmore too, Cousin Ronald, Rosie and Walter. They are all there, I see.”

The next minute the carriage had drawn up at the foot of the steps and the captain was assisting his guests to alight and bidding them heartily welcome.

Cousin Ronald, waiting only to greet Violet, turned to the young stranger guest, and grasping her hand said with emotion: “I need ask no questions, for that bonny, winsome face tells plainer than any words that you are my Cousin Janet’s bairn.”

Marian gazed at him for a moment in dumb astonishment; then a glad surprise lighted up her face.

“A kinsman of my dear mother?” she exclaimed.

“Yes, my bonny lass. Did you never hear her speak of her Cousin Ronald Lilburn?”

“Oh, I have, sir, I have! and you are he?”

“That I am, lassie; and old enough to be your grandsire; so dinna think it too great a liberty I take,” kissing her on cheek and lip. “And my cousin Elsie here, and her children, may claim kindred with you also, lassie,” putting the hand he held into that of Mrs. Travilla.

“Yes, we must be permitted to claim you as our own, dear girl,” Grandma Elsie said in tender tones and with an affectionate caress. Then turning to her children, “Rosie and Walter,” she said, “this is your cousin, too.”

“Then mine also, mamma,” exclaimed Violet.

“Ah, Marian, I am glad to know there is such a tie between us!” taking the young girl’s hand in hers and holding it for a moment in a kindly pressure.

“I also, for if related to my wife you are to me too,” the captain said, laying a hand affectionately upon the young girl’s shoulder.

Then the younger ones greeted her warmly in turn. Mr. Dinsmore shook hands with her in a kind, grandfatherly way, saying that she must no longer feel herself a stranger in a strange land, but that the God of her fathers had guided her to an abiding-place among her own kith and kin.

Marian seemed well-nigh overwhelmed with joy and gratitude by the sudden glad change in her condition, laughing and crying hysterically in turn; but under the kind ministrations of her newly found relatives soon recovered her composure and was able to answer coherently the many questions Cousin Ronald had to ask concerning her parents and brothers.

His manner increased in gentleness and tenderness as he learned of her many and recent bereavements and the cruel treatment received at the hands of her unnatural father.

Mr. Lilburn’s brow darkened as he listened. “Ah, to think o’ my ain bonny cousin throwing hersel’ awa upon sic a beast o’ a mon!” he muttered between his set teeth; then aloud to Marian, “Dinna fash yersel’, lassie; the Lord has blessed your Cousin Ronald wi’ abundance o’ this worl’s gude; sons too, and one married daughter, but no single one now the two that were once the pride and joy o’ his heart having been long since called to the Father’s house on high, and if it so pleases you he will be glad to take you in the place of one of them.”

“How very kind you are, sir!” she exclaimed with starting tears. “I cannot consent to be a burden to any one, but will gladly take help to fit myself for some useful employment by which I can earn my daily bread.”

“And that you shall have, my dear lass,” he said emphatically.

“But we need not settle anything to-day,” their Cousin Elsie remarked, then told Marian of the family gathering to be held at Ion that afternoon, adding a warm invitation to her to make one of the company.

Marian accepted with thanks; then,