"Does your head feel dizzy?
You'd better go and lie down; you've had too much excitement for a man of--" "Oh, you thar, Marm Lucy ?" cried the farmer, with a sigh of relief that was half a chuckle, "Now, thar! you tell Hildy that folks does sometimes drop in--onexpected-like--folks from a _con_sid'able distance sometimes.
Why, I've known 'em--" But here he stopped suddenly.

And as Hilda, expecting she knew not what, stood with hands clasped together, and beating heart, the door was thrown open and a strong, cheery voice cried, "Well, General!" Another moment, and she was clasped in her father's arms.
THE LAST WORD.
The lovely autumn is gone, and winter is here.

Mr.and Mrs.Graham have long since been settled at home, and Hildegarde is with them.

How does it fare with her, the new Hildegarde, under the old influences and amid the old surroundings?
For answer, let us take the word of her oldest friend,--the friend who "_knows_ Hildegarde!" Madge Everton has just finished a long letter to Helen McIvor, who is spending the winter in Washington, and there can be no harm in our taking a peep into it.
"You ask me about Hilda Graham; but, _alas!_ I have NOTHING pleasant to tell.

My dear, Hilda is simply LOST to us! It is all the result of that _dreadful_ summer spent among _swineherds_.