“’That’s my mamma, and papa and I have just come all the way from America,”—and then a gentleman told me to kiss mamma, and I did; and then she opened her eyes; and just as soon as she saw papa, she got a great deal whiter and her head fell back again, and I was so sure she was dying, that I began to cry out loud, and I do think there were more than a hundred people all round us; but Louise says there were only ten or twelve; and then the same gentleman that told me to kiss mamma took hold of papa, and made him go away; and they carried mamma into a room, and laid her on a bed, and said we must all go out; but I wouldn’t: I got right under the bed, and they didn’t see me; and it seemed to me a thousand years before anybody spoke; and at last I heard mamma’s voice, just as weak as a baby’s—but you know nobody could mistake mamma’s voice; and said she, ‘Where is John—I saw John;’ and then the gentleman said,—oh, I forgot to tell you he was a doctor,—he said,—
“’My dear madam, calm yourself’—and then I cried right out again, and crept out between his legs and almost knocked him down; and said I, ’Don’t you try to calm my mamma; it is papa—and me too, mamma!’ and then mamma burst out crying; and then the old gentleman ran out, and I guess papa was at the door, for he came right in; and then he put his arms round mamma, and they didn’t speak for so long, I thought I should die; and all the people were listening, and going up and down in the halls outside, and I felt so frightened and ashamed, for fear people would think mamma wasn’t glad to see us. But papa says that is always the way when people are more glad than they can bear; and the surprise, too, was too much for anybody. But I said at the tea-table that I hoped I should never be so glad myself as long as I lived; and then the old gentleman,—he’s a very nice old gentleman, and a great friend of mamma’s, and wears gold spectacles,—he said, ‘My dear little girl, I hope you may be some day just as glad,’ and then he looked at papa and mamma and smiled,—and mamma almost cried again! Oh, altogether it was a horrid time; the worst I ever had; and so different from what papa and I thought it would be.
“But it’s all over now, and we’re all so happy, we laugh so all the time, that papa says it is disgraceful; that we shall have to go off and hide ourselves somewhere where people can’t see us.
“But Auntie, you don’t know how perfectly splendid mamma is. She is the prettiest lady in the hotel, Louise says. She is ever so much fatter than she used to be. And the baby has grown so I did not know her, and her curls are more than half a yard long. Louise and Mary have got their hair cut short like boys, but their gowns are splendid; they say it was such a pity you had any made for me at home. But oh, dear Auntie, don’t think I shall not always like the gowns you made for me. Charlie isn’t here; he’s at some horrid school a great way off; I forget the name of


