“Mighty kind in her, and no mistake,” said John Jr., throwing aside the stump of a cigar which he had been smoking, and thinking to himself that “Mabel was a nice girl, after all.”

The next day, finding the time hang heavily upon his hands, he suddenly wondered why he had never thought to call upon ’Lena.  “To be sure, I’ll feel awfully to go where Nellie used to be, and know she is not there, but it’s lonesomer than a graveyard here, and I’m bound to do something.”

So saying, he mounted Firelock and started off, followed by no regrets from his mother or sisters, for since Nellie went away he had been intolerably cross and fault-finding.  He found a servant in the door, so he was saved the trouble of ringing, and entering unannounced, walked noiselessly to the parlor-door, which was ajar.  ’Lena, as usual, sat at the piano, wholly absorbed, while over her bent Mabel, who was assisting her in the lesson, speaking encouragingly, and patiently helping her through all the difficult places.  Mabel’s health was improved since first we saw her, and though she was still plain—­ugly, many would say—­there was something pleasing in her face, and in the expression of her black, eyes, which looked down so kindly upon ’Lena.  John Jr. noticed it, and never before had Mabel appeared to so good advantage to him as she did at that moment, as he watched her through the open door.

At last the lesson was finished, and rising up, ’Lena said, “I know I should never learn if it were not for you,” at the same time winding her arm about Mabel’s neck and kissing her glowing cheek.

“Let me have a share of that,” exclaimed John Jr., stepping forward and clasping both the girls in his arms ere they were aware of his presence.

With a gay laugh they shook him off, and ’Lena, leading him to the sofa, sat down beside him, asking numerous questions about home and her grandmother.  John answered them all, and then, oh how he longed to ask if there had come any tidings of the absent one; but he would not—­she had left him of her own accord, and he had sworn never to inquire for her.  So he sat gazing dreamily upon her piano, the chair she used to occupy and the books she used to read, until ’Lena, either divining his thoughts, or fancying he would wish to know, said, “We’ve not heard from Nellie since she left us.”

“You didn’t expect to, so soon, I suppose,” was John’s indifferent reply.

“Why, no, not unless they chanced to speak a ship.  I wish they’d taken a steamer instead of a sailing vessel,” said ’Lena.

“I suppose Mr. Wilbur had an eye upon the long, cosy chats he could have with Nellie, looking out upon the sea,” was John’s answer, while Mabel quickly rejoined, that “he had chosen a sailing vessel solely on Mary’s account.”

In the midst of their conversation, the door-bell rang; and a moment after, Durward was ushered into the parlor.  “He was in town on business,” he said, “and thought he would call.”