Slowly Mrs.De Peyster returned once more to life.

She hardly knew how she had escaped, save that it had been through some miracle of that awful Mr.Pyecroft's amazing tongue.
"By the way, Matilda," she heard Mary remark, "did you read in to-night's papers about Mrs.De Peyster's voyage?
You know she landed to-day." "No, ma'-- Mary," said Matilda.
"The paper said she was so ill all the way across that she wasn't able to leave her stateroom once." Mary's voice was very sympathetic.

"Why, she was so ill she couldn't leave the boat until after dark, hours after all the other passengers had gone." "I never knew mother to be seasick before," said Jack, in deep concern.
Judge Harvey said nothing, but his fine, handsome face was disturbed.
Jack noted the look, and, suddenly catching the Judge's hand, said with a burst of boyish frankness:-- "Uncle Bob, you're worried more than any of us! You know I've always liked you like a father--and--and here's hoping some day mother'll change her mind--and you'll be my father in reality!" "Thank you, Jack!" the Judge said huskily, gripping Jack's hand.
Over in her corner, beneath her veil, Mrs.De Peyster flushed hotly.
They talked on about the distant Mrs.De Peyster, and she listened with keenest ears.

They were all so sympathetic about her--sick--alone--in far-off Europe.

So sympathetic--so very, very sympathetic! As for Mr.Pyecroft, standing on guard beside her, he looked appropriately grave.