“You will never give her any more trouble,” said Alice.  “Aunt Phillis, you don’t know how steady Uncle Bacchus has been; he is getting quite a temperance man.”

“Old Nick got the better of me twice, though,” said Bacchus.  “I did think, master, of tryin to make Phillis b’lieve I hadn’t drank nothin dis winter; but she’d sure to find me out.  There’s somefin in her goes agin a lie.”

“But that was doing very well,” said Alice; “don’t you think so, Aunt Phillis?  Only twice all through the winter.”

“Its an improvement, honey,” said Phillis; “but what’s the use of getting drunk at all?  When we are thirsty water is better than any thing else; and when we aint thirsty, what’s the use of drinking?”

Phillis had been sitting in an arm-chair, that Mrs. Weston had placed for her.  When she first came in, her face was a little flushed from pleasure, and the glow might have been mistaken as an indication of health.  The emotion passed, Mrs. Weston perceived there was a great change in her.  She was excessively emaciated; her cheek-bones prominent, her eyes large and bright.  The whiteness of her teeth struck them all.  These symptoms, and the difficulty with which she breathed, were tokens of her disease.  She became much fatigued and Miss Janet advised her to go home and lie down.  “They shan’t tell you of their grand doings to-night, Phillis,” she said; “for you have been excited, and must keep quiet.  In the morning you will be able to listen to them.  Don’t tell any long stories, Bacchus,” she continued.  “Dr. Lawton wants her to keep from any excitement at night, for fear she should not sleep well after it.  All you travelers had better go to bed early, and wake up bright in the morning.”

Alice went home with Phillis, and came back to welcome Mr. Barbour, who had just arrived.  The happy evening glided away; home was delightful to the returned family.

Bacchus gave glowing descriptions of scenes, in which he figured largely, to the servants; and Bacchus the younger devoutly believed there had not been so distinguished a visitor to the metropolis that winter, as his respected father.

Dr. Lawton came regularly to see Phillis, who frequently rallied.  Her cheerfulness made her appear stronger than she was; but when Alice would tell her how well she looked, and that the sight of Arthur would complete her recovery, she invariably answered, “I want to see him mightily, child; but about my gettin well, there’s no telling.  God only knows.”

CHAPTER XXVI.

“Do sit down, my dear cousin,” said Miss Janet to Mr. Weston, who was walking up and down the drawing-room.  “Here, in August, instead of being quiet and trying to keep cool, you are fussing about, and heating yourself so uselessly.”

“I will try,” said Mr. Weston, smiling, and seating himself on the sofa; but you must recollect that for three years I have not seen my only son, and that now he is coming home to stay.  I cannot realize it; it is too much happiness.  We are so blessed, Cousin Janet, we have so much of this world’s good, I sometimes tremble lest God should intend me to have my portion here.”