Mrs. Raymond consulted with a friend, according to Squire Turner’s suggestion, and was advised by all means to accept.

“It will be such an advantage for Katy, you know,” her friend said.

“But I don’t feel as if it would be quite right. I don’t love Squire Turner.”

“You don’t need to. People don’t often marry a second time for love. That will do very well for a young girl; but there are other things to be thought of now.”

“Then you advise me to marry again?”

“I do, most certainly.”

“If Harry were at home I would not do it,” said the widow. “I don’t think he would like it. As it is, it is only for Katy’s sake that I give my consent.”

So when Squire Turner called for his answer he found it to be favorable. He urged immediate marriage. For this he had his reasons, as he desired to be in a situation to complete his western negotiation.

“There is no use in delaying,” he said. “The sooner Katy commences her musical education the better. Besides, I am lonely, and my household sadly needs a woman to look after it.”

Mrs. Raymond would have preferred to postpone the marriage for six months; but she could assign no reasons for it, and so at length yielded to the squire’s request, and that day four weeks was appointed for the wedding. The next day Squire Turner went to the city, and selected a handsome silk dress-pattern, which was forwarded by express to Mrs. Raymond, with an intimation that it was for her wedding-dress. She could not do otherwise than accept it, and the village dress-maker was sent for at once to superintend its making up.

Time slipped by, and the day for the marriage had nearly arrived. The wedding-dress was completed, and various other articles, which had also been sent through the squire’s liberality, lay upon the bed in Mrs. Raymond’s chamber.

“What a beautiful dress, mother!” said Katy. “I wish you would try it on.”

More to please the little girl than herself, Mrs. Raymond consented and tried on the new dress. She was still a fine-looking woman, as I have already said, and the new dress became her well. Little Katy looked at her in admiration, and said, “How beautiful you look, mother! I wish Harry were here to see you.”

At the sound of Harry’s name Mrs. Raymond’s face changed. She could not conceal from herself that what she was about to do would have been strongly opposed by Harry, had he been at home. Would he ever come home? That was the question which occurred to her, and, if he did, what would he say to find her Squire Turner’s wife?

“I wish I could put it off for six months,” she thought.

They were in a room on the second floor, and there was no one in the lower part of the house. Just then the front door was heard to open.

“Go downstairs, Katy,” said Mrs. Raymond. “Somebody has come in. See who it is, and come and tell me.”

Katy went down, and directly Mrs. Raymond heard a loud exclamation. She could not exactly make it out, but it sounded like “Harry!” A wild hope sprang up in her heart. Without thinking of her bridal dress she hurried downstairs. She was not deceived. There stood Harry, her Harry, taller and manlier than when she saw him last, but with the same frank, handsome face, holding his little sister in his arms.

“Harry!” exclaimed Mrs. Raymond, in joyful surprise; and in a moment the long-separated son and mother embraced.

“God be thanked for your return, my dear son!” she said. “Where have you been all this long time?”

“It will take a long time to tell, mother. I have just returned from Australia.”

“From Australia!” exclaimed Mrs. Raymond, in amazement.

“Yes, mother, it’s a long story. I will tell it by and by. But how well you are looking! And (for the first time noticing his mother’s elegant dress) how handsomely you are dressed! Have you come into a fortune since I went away?”

“No, Harry,” said Mrs. Raymond, confused.

“I expected to find you in poverty, perhaps in want,” said Harry, puzzled more and more. “I didn’t think to see you dressed like a queen.”

“It’s mother’s wedding-dress, Harry,” said little Katy, who did not share her mother’s embarrassment.

“Your wedding-dress, mother!” exclaimed Harry, his face clouding. “Who are you going to marry?”

“I did it for the best, Harry,” said his mother, uneasily; “and he has been very kind.”

“Who is he, mother?”

“Squire Turner. He—”

“Squire Turner!” exclaimed Harry, vehemently, springing to his feet; “it is not possible you are thinking of marrying him. He is the worst enemy we have.”

“No, Harry,” said his mother; “you are mistaken there. You must, at least, do him justice. He has been very kind, very kind, indeed. I don’t know how I should have got along, in the sad days after we lost you, but for his kindness.”

“So you think he has been kind, mother?” said Harry, with a peculiar expression.

“Very kind, as Katy can tell you,” said Mrs. Raymond. “Not that this is reason enough to marry him. But it is for Katy’s sake I am going to do it. Squire Turner has promised to give her every advantage, and she will begin to take music-lessons as soon as we are married. I have had very hard work getting along, Harry, and it was a relief to feel that I need have no more anxiety about making a living.”

“Then you don’t love him, mother?”

“I shall never love any one again, Harry. My love was buried in your father’s grave.”

“I am glad of that, at any rate; glad that you don’t love this scoundrel—”

“Harry, Harry, don’t talk so, I beg of you.”

“Mother, I have good reason for all I say. I know Squire Turner better than you.”

“How can you know him so well, when you have been away for more than a year?”

“Have you any idea why I went away so suddenly? I don’t mean to New York; but how it happened that I disappeared from New York?”

“No, Harry, I know nothing of it.”

“Then I will tell you. Squire Turner, whom you think so kind, had me kidnapped on board a vessel bound for China, and I started on my long voyage without any chance of letting you know what had become of me.”

“This is a strange story, Harry. Are you sure of it?”

“Yes. I have proof of it. I did not suspect at first that Squire Turner had anything to do with the matter, till one day, in the cabin, I picked up a letter directed to Captain Brandon by Squire Turner, which made it all clear.”

“But what interest could Squire Turner have in getting you out of the country?” asked Mrs. Raymond.

“I think I know of a reason, mother,” said Harry; “but I don’t care to mention it now.”

“You said the vessel was bound for China. How, then, did you get to Australia?”

“I was thrown into the sea,” said Harry; “and, after floating about for many hours, was picked up at length by a vessel bound for Australia.”

“You have, indeed, encountered great perils, my dear son,” said his mother, shuddering. “Thank God, you escaped them all, and are once more restored to us.”

Harry was about to question his mother more particularly respecting her trials during his absence, when a knock was heard at the door.

“I will open it, mother,” said Harry.

Opening the front door he saw on the step a well-dressed gentleman, whom he did not recognize.

“Does Mrs. Raymond live here?” asked the stranger.

“Yes, sir. Would you like to see her?”

“I should like to do so. I am managing some business for her.”

Here he offered his card, which bore the name:—

“FRANCIS ROBINSON,
“Attorney at Law,
“Milwaukie.”

“Won’t you walk in, sir?” said Harry, considerably surprised.

“This is my mother,” he said, introducing the lawyer. “Mother, this is Mr. Robinson, of Milwaukie, who says he is attending to some business there for you.”

“Will you be seated, sir?” said Mrs. Raymond. “I had not heard your name, but I suppose it’s about the land warrant.”

“Yes, madam. I am glad to say that we have succeeded. I happened to be called East on business, and thought I would call in person, and communicate the favorable termination of our negotiation. I went first to the house of Squire Turner; but, learning that he is out of town for a day or two, inquired you out, and have great pleasure in being the first to impart the good news to you.”

“May I inquire,” said Harry, “how much my mother is likely to realize for the land warrant?”

“The other party have agreed to your terms. They will compromise without an appeal to law, agreeing to pay ten thousand dollars.”

“Ten thousand dollars!” repeated Mrs. Raymond, in bewilderment. “Surely there is some mistake. Squire Turner told me I might realize from seventy-five to a hundred dollars from it.”

“Seventy-five to a hundred dollars!” he repeated. “Are you sure you understood Squire Turner aright?”

“Certainly. He told me only a fortnight since that he thought I would obtain this sum, and I felt lucky to get anything at all.”

“There is a great mistake somewhere,” said the lawyer, significantly. “Of one thing, however, I can assure you,—that the ten thousand dollars will actually be paid.”

“Mother,” said Harry, “have you given Squire Turner authority to act for you in this matter?”

“I have,—that is, I signed a paper which he said gave him such authority.”

“He showed me that paper,” said Mr. Robinson.

“Can my mother revoke that authority?” asked Harry.

“Undoubtedly.”

“Then she does revoke it at once,—am I not right, mother?”

“If you think best, Harry.”

“I do think best. It is evident that Squire Turner has not been faithful to your interests. If you wish, I will act as your agent.”

“But you are so young, Harry.”

“I have seen something of the world, mother, since I left home. I shall not hesitate to take charge of the business. Mr. Robinson will assist me.”

“Certainly. I shall be happy to do whatever I can.”

“Then, Mr. Robinson, if it would not be too much trouble, and you can spare the time, will you give me a history of the case, and explain how matters at present stand?”

“I see,” said the lawyer, smiling, “that you know how to come to the point. I will endeavor to imitate you.”

He made a brief and comprehensive statement, which Harry readily understood.

“Have you the warrant, Mr. Robinson?” asked our hero.

“Yes; it was committed to me by Squire Turner.”

“That is all right. I was afraid he had it in his possession, and that might give us trouble.”

“No; it is out of his power to affect the arrangements already made.”

“How long shall you remain East, Mr. Robinson?” asked Harry. “I shall wish to see you again.”

“I shall remain in New York a week, my head-quarters being at the Astor House.”

“I will call upon you there. Meanwhile, we leave this matter entirely in your hands.”

Mr. Robinson was about to go, when little Katy, who had been looking out of the window, suddenly exclaimed:—

“Mother, I see Squire Turner coming up the road. I think he is coming here.”

All present looked at each other in momentary doubt as to what was best to be done. Harry was the first to grasp the situation.

“Mr. Robinson,” he said, “will you be kind enough to accompany me to another room, and wait? I would like your presence by and by. Mother, while you are upstairs and changing your dress, Katy will admit Squire Turner, and tell him you will be down directly. Mind, Katy, not a word about my having got home, or about Mr. Robinson’s being here. When you come down, mother, you must tell Squire Turner that you have changed your mind about marrying him, and, if he makes any objection, call me in.”

“I see you are a master of strategy, my young friend,” said Mr. Robinson, smiling. “I place myself unhesitatingly in your hands.”

Harry’s programme was instantly carried out, and one minute later Squire Turner knocked at the door of the cottage.