The second time he read the letter his whole body trembled, and his breath came in gasps, as if he were in a physical struggle.

Then lifting arms and voice towards the sky, he cried in a long, low wail, "Oh God, it is good, it is good!" With that he laid himself down prone upon the mound again, his face in the grass, sobbing brokenly, "Oh, mother, mother dear, I have got you once more; I have got you once more!" His sister stood, her hands clasped upon her heart--a manner she had--her tears, unnoted, flowing down her cheeks, waiting till her brother should let her into his joy, as she had waited for entrance into his grief.

His griefs and his joys were hers, and though he still held her a mere child, it was with a woman's self-forgetting love she ministered to him, gladly accepting whatever confidence he would give, but content to wait until he should give more.

So she stood waiting, with her tears flowing quietly, and her face alight with wonder and joy for him.

But as her brother's sobbing continued, this terrible display of emotion amazed her, startled her, for since their mother's death none of them had seen Allan weep.