Over at Ion the family were left alone, all the guests having now departed to their own homes. Zoe was seeing her children in their nests for the night; Grandpa and Grandma Dinsmore were chatting together on the front veranda, while Grandma Elsie and her sons, Edward and Herbert, a little removed from the older couple, were engaged in a similar manner—her sons asking questions in regard to their mother’s experiences during the summer and fall, and she telling a pleasant and interesting tale in regard to them.

Just then a hack came rolling up the avenue.

“Who’s that now, I wonder,” growled Edward, “coming to interrupt our first private chat with our long absent mother?”

“Probably somebody wanting the doctor,” sighed Herbert, rising and moving toward the entrance.

At that moment the vehicle came to a standstill at the veranda steps, and instantly out sprang a manly form and came quickly up them.

“Walter!” exclaimed Herbert, reaching out his hand, which the other grasped and shook heartily.

“Yes, brother mine, it is I. Where’s mother? Mother! mother, dear! Oh, how glad I am to have you in my arms once more!” as she sprang forward with a cry of joy.

“Walter, my dear, dear youngest son!” and he caught her in his arms. “My baby boy,” she laughed the next moment; “my baby boy grown taller than his mother. Oh, why wasn’t he here to meet and greet me when I got home?”

“A little business matter, and a misunderstanding as to the probable time of my mother’s arrival,” he answered, repeating his caresses.

Then they released each other, and joyous and affectionate greetings were exchanged with the remaining members of the family.

“You should have been here sooner, Walter,” said Herbert when all were seated again, with his mother in the midst. “She has been telling Ed and me some very interesting things about her recent visit to California.”

“Perhaps mother will repeat her story to me one of these days,” said Walter. “At present it seems almost enough to see her dear face, without hearing anything but the sound of her sweet voice.”

“That sounds very much as if my youngest son had been licking the blarney stone,” laughed his mother.

“Not a bit of it, mother,” he returned. “You know I wasn’t brought up to do such things.”

“I hope you were not,” she said, “but you have been under other teachers than your mother for years past.”

“True, my mother dear, but I hope I have not forgotten your teachings. Now what is the latest news about uncles, aunts, cousins and friends in this neighborhood?”

“I really think but little has taken place which would be new to you, Walter,” replied his mother.

“I doubt,” laughed Edward, “if he has heard of the good fortune of Eva and Max.”

“Money or estate?” queried Walter.

“Something better than either,” remarked his mother, with a pleased smile.

“Oh, I suppose Max has been promoted. Good for him! He’s very happy over it, I dare say.”

“But it isn’t that. You’re wide of the mark,” laughed Edward.

“You may as well tell me. I don’t seem to be Yankee enough to be good at guessing.”

“A little daughter, as pretty a baby as ever was seen—of course, excepting Zoe’s and mine.”

“Oh, is that it?” laughed Walter. “Well, I’ll congratulate them when I see them. Am I uncle to it, mother?”

“No,” she replied with a smile; “you are not really related at all to either parent, so of course not to the child.”

“Yet both the parents and I have been in the habit of calling each other cousin, so I think I’ll claim kin with the little beauty you tell me of.”

“And I don’t think any one will object,” said his mother.

Zoe now joined them, welcomed Walter heartily, and the talk went on, principally about the various relatives and connections, but with never an unkind or uncharitable word in regard to any of them.

“And you had them all here to-day,” Walter said at length. “I wish I had reached home a few hours sooner.”

“We would all have been glad to see you then, as we are now, my son,” said his mother. “But don’t feel too much disappointed. I have an idea that there will be a number of other family gatherings before Max is ordered away again.”

“Yes,” said Grandma Dinsmore, “I heard several of to-day’s guests express an intention to have such a family gathering themselves before very long.”

“And they are the most agreeable kind to have,” said Zoe.

“I think I shall go to-morrow and have a peep at that new relative, as well as a chat with her parents,” said Walter. “I dare say they feel quite rich. But how funny to think of the captain and Vi as grandpa and grandma. But, of course, Vi isn’t really that, and nobody will think of calling her so.”

“She called herself that,” said Zoe, “but certainly it seems quite ridiculous. They will all be sorry, as we are, that you were not here to-day to take part in our reception,” she added; “but if you would like to speak to any of them now, you know you can use the ’phone.”

“Thanks,” returned Walter, “but I believe I should prefer to give them a rousing surprise to-morrow by just walking in on them.”

“I think that the better plan,” said his grandfather approvingly.

“And perhaps I can persuade my mother to go along,” added Walter, looking smilingly at her.

“If you get Herbert or Harold to prescribe the ride—or walk; which is it to be?—I will go, expecting benefit from so doing,” she responded in mirthful tone.

“Harold!” exclaimed Walter. “By the way, where is he? Visiting some desperately sick patient? I know that’s often the case when he fails to adorn the family circle.”

“No,” said Herbert; “at present he is dancing attendance on Grace Raymond, his adored ladylove.”

Walter laughed and said: “Ah, yes, that’s all right; Grace is a dear, sweet girl—a beauty, too; and except for the odd mixing up of relationships and the fact that she is delicate, I should be delighted with the prospective match.”

“I also,” said his mother. “I am very fond of Grace; have loved her ever since my first sight of her sweet face. I can see that she loves Harold dearly, yet is perfectly submissive to her father’s will in regard to the time of their marriage. Nor does Harold rebel, though it is plain to be seen that he longs for the time when he may claim her as his very own.”

“Yes, mother. Well, I hope he will prescribe early retirement for his ladylove to-night and hasten home to greet his youngest brother, whom he has not seen for nearly a year.”

“I presume he has done so; for here he comes now, walking up the avenue,” exclaimed Herbert, glancing in that direction.

At that Walter sprang to his feet and hastened forward to meet Harold as he came up the veranda steps.

“Howdy’do, doctor?” he cried with a pleasant laugh. “I hope you’ve left that pretty patient of yours doing well.”

“Why, Walter, my man, I’m glad to see you and know that, young as you are, you’ve travelled home safely by yourself,” responded Harold, reaching the top step and grasping heartily the hand held out to him.

“How do you know that I travelled by myself?” laughed Walter. “Are you quite sure I may not have a ladylove and future father-in-law as well as yourself?”

“Yes, my little man; for if you had I should certainly have learned it before this, since my youngest brother has always been communicative to me.”

“Don’t be too sure of that, laddie,” laughed Walter. “But come along now and join the family circle, which, with you in it, will be quite complete.”

“So you are here again, Harold,” said his grandfather, as they seated themselves. “How did you and the Raymonds find matters at Woodburn?”

“Everything in perfect order, sir; at least, so far as I could tell, and all seemed entirely satisfied and full of delight that they had at last reached their home.”

“That is pleasant news. I suppose you didn’t go on to Sunnyside?”

“No, sir; I reserved that pleasant visit for to-morrow.”

“Oh,” said Walter, “Chester and Lu, Max and Eva are at home now, I suppose; and I’m told the latter couple rejoice in owning a beauty of a baby.”

“Yes, she is a beauty, I think,” said Harold; “as sweet a little creature as ever I saw.”

“That’s pretty strong, coming from an old bach, isn’t it?” laughed Walter.

“Hardly at an age to be reasonably called old, Walter,” remonstrated their mother gently, and with a smile.

“It seems quite well, from a business point of view, for a doctor to be considered old—or at least not very young, mother,” said Harold pleasantly, and with a smile.

“Most people are more ready to trust themselves and dear ones to the treatment of a physician who has had some experience in the practice of his profession, than to one whose youth proves him to be but a beginner.”

“Quite true, Harold, and very sensible in those who act upon that principle,” remarked his grandfather.