: Two Little Travellers A Story for Girls by Arthur Frances Browne - Christian life Juvenile fiction; Conduct of life Juvenile fiction; Siblings Juvenile fiction; England Juvenile fiction

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ut up within themselves, whence it should well forth in an atmosphere of obedience, love, duty--the chief elements which go to make a truly happy land.

BAMBO'S FRIEND.

"After the night comes the morning, After the winter the spring; We can begin again, Dolly, And be sorry for everything.

"We love, and so we are happy; No beautiful thing ever ends; 'Tis good to cry and be sorry, But better to kiss and be friends."

E. COXHEAD.

This evening the sisters were pacing arm in arm up and down the long, wide gravel walk between the front door and the gate. Miss Turner looked pinched and worn, with pale cheeks and great hollows about her eyes, which were dim and dry as if from want of sleep. Her head was bent, her step was slow like the step of an old person; and indeed she seemed old--ten years older than the brisk and vigorous Aunt Catharine who had trodden the same path with such a stately air only a week ago.

Miss Alice's gentle face also was thin and white. Her eyes, which were big and gray like Darby's, and usually soft and calm in their glance, were alert, bright, and restless, as if always on the watch for something they could not see, while in her nut-brown hair there were nearly twice as many silver streaks as had been visible when Darby and Joan went away.

They had been speaking of the lost little ones, but now a silence had fallen upon them which neither showed any desire to break. There was nothing more to say except what had already been said over and over again. Everything had been done that they and wise, kind neighbours could do or suggest; and on the morrow Dr. King and Mr. Grey would put the case into the hands of the Barchester police--more to satisfy Miss Turner than from any faith in the result on their own part. The Firdale men had done their best and failed; what cleverer would they be in Barchester?

The air had grown chilly, although the sun was not yet set, and Miss Turner shivered, as much from nervousness as from cold. Her sister was drawing her within doors, when the latch of the gate clicked sharply, and both ladies turned round to look in its direction.

Miss Turner drew herself up in astonishment and annoyance at the ill-timed intrusion of the three little tramps. A something in the boy's eyes, however, arrested the words of rebuke and dismissal which hung ready to fall from her lips, and she looked at them again before stepping forward to shut the gate in their faces.

But Miss Alice's sight was quicker than her sister's, her instincts truer, her faith stronger, and with a low, glad cry of "My dears! my dears!" she sprang, swift as a girl, toward the children, bent down, and Darby and Joan felt themselves gathered close and tight within Auntie Alice's loving arms; while from Aunt Catharine's eyes the thankful tears rained thick and fast, mingled with a shower of kisses, upon their smiling, upturned faces.

"We's comed home again, Aunt Catharine," announced Joan cheerfully and easily, as if the pair of them had just returned from church. "Is you glad to see us?" she asked, smiling sweetly into her aunt's swimming eyes.

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