Baskets of fruit and game, accompanied by kind messages, had found their way now and again from Ion to the cottage home of the Fosters, but weeks had passed since the sweet face of Ion’s mistress had been seen within its walls.

Elsie’s tender conscience reproached her for this, when after an absence of several Sabbaths Mrs. Foster again occupied her pew in the church of which both were members.

The poor lady was clad in rusty black, seemed to be aging fast, and the pale, thin face had a weary, heart-broken expression that brought the tears to Elsie’s eyes.

When the service closed she took pains to intercept Mrs. Foster, who was trying to slip away unnoticed, and taking her hand in a warm clasp, kindly inquired concerning the health of herself and family.

“About as usual, Mrs. Travilla,” was the reply.

“I am glad to hear it.  I feared you were ill.  You are looking weary; and no wonder after your long walk.  You must let us take you home.  There is plenty of room in the carriage, as the gentlemen came on horseback; and it will be a real pleasure to me to have your company.”

The sincere, earnest, kindly tone and manner quite disarmed the pride of the fallen gentlewoman, and a momentary glow of grateful pleasure lighted up her sad face.

“But it will take you fully a mile out of your way,” she said, hesitating to accept the proffered kindness.

“Ah, that is no objection; it is so lovely a day for a drive,” said Elsie, leading the way to the carriage.

“This seems like a return of the good old times before the war!” sighed Mrs. Foster leaning back upon the softly cushioned seat, as they bowled rapidly along.  “Ah Mrs. Travilla, if we could but have been content to let well enough alone!  I have grown weary, inexpressibly weary of all this hate, bitterness and contention; and the poverty—­Ah well, I will not complain!” and she closed her lips resolutely.

“It was a sad mistake,” Elsie answered; echoing the sigh, “and it will take many years to recover from it.”

“Yes, I shall not live to see it.”

“Nor I, perhaps; not here, but yonder in the better land,” Elsie answered with a smile of hope and gladness.

Mrs. Foster nodded assent; her heart too full for utterance, nor did she speak again till the carriage drew up before her own door.

Then repeating her thanks, “You have not been here for a long time, Mrs. Travilla,” she said, “I know I have not returned your calls, but—­” she paused seemingly again overcome with emotion.

“Ah, that shall not keep me away, if you wish me to come,” returned Elsie.

“We would be very glad; hardly any one else so welcome.”

“I fear I have neglected you, but shall try to come soon.  And shall be pleased at any time to see you at Ion,” Elsie answered as the carriage drove on.

A day or two afterward she fulfilled her promise, and was admitted by Annie, the eldest daughter.