\"you expect me, don\"t you?\"

\"no, we hāve had no letter.\"

\"then i hāve e before it. but my mother knows i am ing?\"

\"oh! we all knew you would e. but wait a little! step in here. giveme your hand. what is this? oh! your carpet-bag. dixon has shut theshutters; but this is papa\"s study, and i can take you to a chair to restyourself for a few minutes; while i go and tell him.\"

she groped her way to the taper and the lucifer matches. she suddenlyfelt shy, when the little feeble light made them visible. all she could seewas, that her brother\"s face was unusually dark in plexion, and shecaught the stealthy look of a pair of remarkably long-cut blue eyes, thatsuddenly twinkled up with a droll consciousness of their mutualpurpose of inspecting each other. but though the brother and sister hadan instant of sympathy in their reciprocal glances, they did notexchange a word; only, margaret felt sure that she should like herbrother as a panion as much as she already loved him as a nearrelation. her heart was wonderfully lighter as she went up-stairs; thesorrow was no less in reality, but it became less oppressive from hāvingsome one in precisely the same relation to it as that in which she stood.

not her father\"s desponding attitude had power to damp her now. he layacross the table, helpless as ever; but she had the spell by which torouse him. she used it perhaps too violently in her own great relief.

\"papa,\" said she, throwing her arms fondly round his neck; pulling hisweary head up in fact with her gentle violence, till it rested in her arms,and she could look into his eyes, and let them gain strength andassurance from hers.

\"papa! guess who is here!\"

he looked at her; she saw the idea of the truth glimmer into their filmysadness, and be dismissed thence as a wild imagination.

he threw himself forward, and hid his face once more in his stretched-out arms, resting upon the table as heretofore. she heard him whisper;she bent tenderly down to listen. \"i don\"t know. don\"t tell me it isfrederick--not frederick. i cannot bear it,--i am too weak. and hismother is dying!\"he began to cry and wail like a child. it was sodifferent to all which margaret had hoped and expected, that she turnedsick with disappointment, and was silent for an instant. then she spokeagain--very differently--not so exultingly, far more tenderly andcarefully.

\"papa, it is frederick! think of mamma, how glad she will be! and oh,for her sake, how glad we ought to be! for his sake, too,--our poor, poorboy!\"

her father did not change his attitude, but he seemed to be trying tounderstand the fact.

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