forward you a cheque to cover all expenses should your maternal anxiety prompt you to satisfy yourself in person of the state of your daughter's health."

"She must be worse than he acknowledges," groaned Mrs. Gerard, "or he never would have suggested that I should go to her. Oh! why did I let my darling go away from me!"

Meanwhile Rosalia had noticed the other letter lying unheeded on the floor, and picking it up, she said, in her gentle, caressing voice: "Why, auntie, here is another letter in the same hand."

Mrs. Gerard snatched it from her, but hesitated before opening it, thinking, "What if it contained worse news than the first!"

It was dated two days later than the other, and, like it, gave in prim, set words the glad news of Emily's continued improvement, but added that circumstances having occurred to change his (Mr. Gerard's) plans, Mrs. Gerard was on no account to leave Palermo before hearing from him again, either by telegram or letter. That was all; but as

bewildered Mrs. Gerard turned the page, hoping to find a postscript, her eyes were cheered by the sight of a few lines in her Emily's hand; although the fluttering ill-formed, characters well proved the writer's weakness.

"Darling mamma," she read, "don't be anxious about me. I am quite well now, and growing quite fat. Uncle George is a kind old pet, and I love him dearly. By the time we meet you won't believe I have been ill at all. A thousand kisses to you and dear little Lina from

"Your loving child,

"EMILY."

You may be sure Lina's tears quickly dried as she read these words over her mother's shoulder; and then, the great alarm and anxiety being over, everybody began to talk at once, and speculate as to where Emily would be taken. Aunt Caroline was indignant. "It's just like your brother-in-law's selfishness," she said. "Now we shall have you in a fever of anxiety from morning till night, waiting for the next news."

"You are wrong, my dear," said her husband, briskly. "Take my word for it, Mr. Gerard is only silent about his destination in order to spare Maria all unnecessary worry. Who knows," he continued, hesitatingly, "that he may not come farther south -to Naples for instance?"

Mrs. Gerard, who was resting on the sofa now, very white and worn out from all the emotion she had gone through, sprang up eagerly at these words.

"What reason have you for saying that, Pasquale? Do you think it possible? If it only might be! But no! Mr. Gerard would never think of making so long a journey, I am quite sure.”

Try not to worry yourself any more to night," said Uncle Pasquale, kindly. "For my part, I will trust Mr. Gerard to do what is best. Fancy, if he had written while Emily was seriously ill! What tortures you would have suffered? I think he has behaved beautifully."

"No!" cried Mrs. Gerard, her tears beginning to flow again. "He ought to have sent for me at once.

No mother should be away from her child at such a time. It would have been worth any anxiety to have nursed her through it myself."

Just then Aunt Caroline felt her dress gently pulled, and there behind the sofa crouched little Ciccio, who had been quite forgotten during this scene. His eyes were red, for he too had been crying at the bad news, and he was looking very woe-begone.

66

Mamma," he whispered, "I know it is naughty, but I can't help it. I am, oh, so awfully hungry, and supper was ready when we came in."

"Poor Ciccio!" replied his mother, patting his rough head. "You are quite right; we shall all be the better for some supper; and if you are a good boy, you shall help Rosalia to take some to your aunt, whom I am going to send to bed immediately."

CHAPTER XV.

WAITING.

"LET me in! let me in, mamma!" cried Lina, early the next morning, knocking impatiently at her mother's door. "I can't turn the handle; my hands are full."

Quickly the door opened, and there stood Mrs. Gerard half dressed, and very pale and weary after a sleepless night of anxious thought. "What, no telegram!" she said, in a disappointed tone. "What are you doing, my child, with all those toys?"

"I'm bringing a few of my things to be packed up, mamma, so as to be ready to start as soon as ever Uncle George sends us word where to go," answered Lina, in a strangled voice, for her chin was pressed down on the tottering pile of treasures contained in her pinafore.