Solon had an exciting tale to tell in the kitchen while he gave his horses a brief rest before returning to Roselands for the remaining members of the family.

It was listened to with intense interest, and many ejaculations of astonishment at the sudden fall of the tree and of thankfulness that no one was hurt.

“My!” exclaimed the cook, “it would ’a’ been a’ awful thing if Miss Elsie been ’long and got killed wid dat tree a-fallin’ onto her.”

“Yes, tank de good Lord dat she wasn’t dar,” said Solon; “but I reckon she’d mos’ rather be killed her own self dan have such ting happen to Marse Edward an’ Miss Zoe and de babies.”

“Course,” put in another servant; “Miss Elsie she’s got de kindest heart in de world, and she loves her chillen and gran’chillen better’n her own life.”

“I reckon dat’s so; but I must be goin’ back after Miss Elsie and de res’,” said Solon, picking up his hat and putting it on as he passed out into the grounds.

His story caused great excitement at Roselands, and the whole Ion family, with their guests, hastened home in anxiety to hear the version of the story Edward and Herbert would give, and to learn what had been the effect of the fright upon Zoe and the babies.

Solon’s report was: “Miss Zoe she scared most to deff, and Mr. Ed’ard he huggin’ her up, and comfortin’ her all de way home; an’ she’s afraid of de trees on de lawn at Ion, les’ dey falls suddent—like de one in de woods—and kill somebody. But Mr. Ed’ard he tells her to trust in de Lawd, an’ she needn’t be ’fraid ob nothin’.”

“And the babies, Solon?” asked Rosie; “weren’t they frightened almost into fits?”

“Not a bit, Miss Rosie,” returned Solon, chuckling; “dey’s just ’sprised, dey was, an’ quiet as two little mouses. ’Spect dey’s wonderin’ what makes deir mudder cry so, and deir fader hug her and dem up so tight.”

“Ah, here comes Herbert,” said Harold, who, with Croly, was riding alongside of the carriage. “We’ll get the whole story from him.”

“Ah, has Solon been telling you of our adventure in the woods this evening?” asked Herbert, reining in his steed near at hand. “It was quite an exciting one, and we have great reason for gratitude over our narrow escape.”

“As we all have,” returned his mother with emotion. “It was you, Herbert, was it not, who saw the tree tottering and gave warning to the others?”

“Yes, mother. I, being on horseback, had of course a much better opportunity to see it than the others in the covered carriage; yet it was a good Providence that turned my eyes in that direction at that precise moment, and thus saved, possibly, all our lives.”

“Oh, we can never be thankful enough for that!” exclaimed his mother. “But Zoe was very much frightened, Solon says?”

“Oh, very much, and no wonder, poor thing! But Edward took her and the babies directly to their rooms, and I have not seen them since. I wrote my letter, rode in to Union and mailed it, and have just ridden out again.”

The carriage had been at a standstill while they talked, but now Mrs. Travilla bade Solon drive on. They were very near home, and in another minute or two had turned in at the avenue gates.

Edward was waiting on the veranda to assist them to alight, and his mother at once inquired anxiously about Zoe and the twins.

“The little ones are asleep, and Zoe is resting pretty quietly now on her couch,” Edward replied. “I suppose Herbert and Solon have told you of our narrow escape from being crushed by a falling tree as we passed through that bit of woods?”

“Yes; it was a wonderful escape,” Elsie returned in tones quivering with emotion. “I can never be thankful enough for the spared lives of my children. Would Zoe care to see her mother just now, do you think?”

“Yes, yes, indeed, mother! Shall I take you to her now? Our guests will excuse us, I know, and we will leave the others to entertain them.”

Zoe, lying on the couch in her dressing-room, the crib with its sleeping little occupants within reach of her hand, started up with a glad cry, “O mamma, dear mamma, how glad I am to see you!” as her husband and his mother came softly in and drew near where she lay.

Elsie took her in her arms and held her close with low-breathed words of tenderness and love. “My dear girl! my dear daughter! thank God that I have you safe in my arms again. How little I thought of such danger when we parted an hour ago, and oh! to have lost you—my sons—Edward and Herbert, and the darling babies, or any one of you!—ah, it is almost too terrible to think of for a moment.”

“Yes, mamma dear; even the sudden danger, though we all escaped, gave me a shock that has completely unnerved me. I cannot forget for a moment how near we were to death—so sudden and dreadful—escaping only as by the skin of our teeth.”

She shuddered and was silent for a moment, still clinging to her mother, and held fast in her loving embrace; then in a low, sweet voice, “Mamma, dearest mamma,” she said, “this terrible experience, this narrow escape from a sudden, awful death, has proved to me a blessing in disguise. I have given myself to God and feel that he has taken me for his very own child; and oh, amid all my suffering from shattered nerves, there is a sweet peace in my heart such as I have never known before!”

“My dear, dear child!” Elsie exclaimed with emotion, “no sweeter, no gladder tidings could have reached me. It is an answer to prayer offered for years that you—my Edward’s wife—might learn to know and love the Lord who shed his own precious blood that we might have eternal life.”

“Yes, mamma, I wonder at myself that I could have ever resisted such love, that I did not give him my whole heart years ago, and strive to serve him with all my powers.”

“Yes, dear little wife,” Edward said with emotion, “what seemed to us so terrible at the time has turned out a real blessing in disguise.”

“So may every trial prove to you, my dear children,” said his mother. “I must leave you now; and Zoe dear, go to sleep in peace, fearing no evil. Remember and rest upon those sweet words: ‘The Lord is thy keeper; the Lord is thy shade upon thy right hand. The sun shall not smite thee by day, nor the moon by night. The Lord shall preserve thee from all evil; he shall preserve thy soul.’”

Edward saw his mother to the door and kissed her good-night.

“My dear boy, I am very glad for you,” she said, “glad that you and your young wife, the mother of your babes, are at last travelling the same road, and may hope to spend a blest eternity together.”

“Yes, mother dear, I think I have great reason to thank God for that narrow escape of ours from a sudden, terrible death,” he replied in tones tremulous with emotion. “It was better than not to have been in danger, since it has proved to be the means of opening Zoe’s eyes to her guilt and danger as a sinner who had never sought pardon and safety in the one way God has provided.”

“Yes, my heart sings for joy for her and for you. But she is quite worn out; get her to bed and to sleep as soon as you can.” So saying Elsie hastened downstairs, where she found the rest of her family and her guests sitting in the veranda talking over the events of the day, particularly the narrow escape of those present at the fall of the tree in the wood.

Both Harold and Herbert sprang up at sight of their mother and hastened to hand her to a comfortable seat.

“How is Zoe, Elsie?” asked her father.

“A good deal shaken and exhausted by her fright, papa; but I hope a night’s sleep will restore her to usual health and spirits.

“O Herbert, my dear son,” turning to him, “how thankful I am for your escape as well as for theirs!”

“As I am for your sake, mother, as well as my own,” Herbert returned, taking her hand and carrying it to his lips; for he had seated himself close at her side.

“There’s the telephone bell!” exclaimed Rosie, springing to her feet and running into the hall.

She found that Captain Raymond was calling from Woodburn to ask after Edward, Zoe, and the others who had been present at the fall of the tree. He was glad to learn that they had escaped injury and were doing well.

His inquiry was followed almost immediately by a similar one from Fairview, then from each of the other places with which Ion had such connection, and all expressed themselves relieved to learn that none of the little party had been injured.

At Woodburn the captain and his two gentlemen guests sat conversing together.

“This is a beautiful country, captain,” remarked Hugh. “Father and I are so well pleased with it, and with the relatives we have found here, that we have serious thoughts of settling in the neighborhood.”

“That would be pleasant for us,” said the captain, “and, by the way, I heard to-day that our next neighbor talks of selling his plantation and leaving the vicinity.”

“What! surely not that beautiful place that I was admiring the other day?” questioned Cousin Ronald. “Beechwood I think you told me they called it.”

“The very same,” replied the captain, “and we should all be very glad to see you and your son settled there.”

“What do you say to that, laddie?” asked the old gentleman, turning to Hugh.

“It sounds very inviting, sir,” was the smiling reply; “and would not be too distant from our proposed place of business.”

“No, I think not; hardly more than fifteen minutes’ ride or drive from the village if one has the right kind of steed.”

“Ah, you think of going into business in Union, do you?” inquired the captain in a tone of surprise.

“Yes, I have been quietly spying out the land,” replied Cousin Ronald, “and if Hugh agrees with me in thinking it a suitable place for a factory, I think we shall buy and build there.”

“That is a pleasant prospect for us,” said Captain Raymond. “If you like, I will drive you both over there to-morrow and also take you to look at Beechwood.”

The offer was at once accepted with thanks, and dismissing his pupils a little earlier than usual the next morning, the captain fulfilled his promise to his guests.

When they returned, the news they brought was that they had secured a suitable site for a factory in the outskirts of Union, and were carrying on negotiations for the purchase of Beechwood.

“But who is going to keep house for you, Cousin Ronald?” asked Lulu.

“Marian, I hope,” replied the old gentleman, looking smilingly at her. “You can do that in addition to attending to your studies, can you not, my bonny lassie?”

“I can try,” she said with a look of delight; “for oh, but it would be pleasant to have a home with my dear, kind old kinsman.”

“And so near to us, Marian. I hope you are as glad of that as I am,” exclaimed Lulu.

“Oh, yes, yes, indeed!” cried Marian. “I hope there will be seldom a day when we shall not see each other; for you are like a sister to me.”

“And you will come here to recite every school day, I hope,” said the captain, “for I do not want to lose so painstaking, industrious, and promising a pupil.”

“Nor I so good and kind a teacher,” responded Marian, looking her thanks.

“I am much pleased with the place and its near vicinity to this one, the home of kind and congenial relatives,” remarked Hugh Lilburn, “but as yet we are not entirely sure of securing it. You know the old saying, ‘There’s many a slip ’twixt the cup and the lip.’”

“Very true, laddie,” said his father, “yet in this case I feel little apprehension of failure.”

“Do you not like the house, Cousin Hugh?” asked Marian.

“It suits me nicely,” he replied, “and I think you can hardly fail to like it. The grounds too are to my taste. I think if we are successful in securing it, it will make us a delightful home.”

By the next evening he was able to say they had secured it, and would get possession in a fortnight. Marian and Lulu were full of delight, and indeed every one seemed much pleased.

“Will you move in as soon as the other folks are out, Cousin Ronald?” asked Grace.

“We hope to do so,” he replied. “However, we shall need to do some furnishing first. This is Saturday evening: Cousin Vi, do you think you and your mother could go with us to the city next Monday and help us make our selection?”

“Yes, indeed; I shall be delighted to do so, and I have no doubt mamma will gladly accompany us. Marian is to be one of the party, I suppose?”

“Oh, yes, if the captain will give her leave of absence for a few hours?”

“Certainly, for an occasion so important,” the captain said pleasantly.

“If it were holiday time Lulu too should be invited to accompany us,” remarked Mr. Lilburn, “and I hope there will be another time when she can.”

“Thank you, sir, I should be glad to go along if it were not that I know papa wants me to stay at home and attend to lessons; and I don’t want to miss them, as our holidays will soon begin.”

“That’s right, lassie,” he said; “make good use of your fine opportunities, and learn all you can in these young days that you may be the better prepared for usefulness in future years.”

“Yes, sir; that is just what papa often says to us,” replied Lulu, with a loving smile up into her father’s face; “and I’ve found out that he always knows best about whatever concerns me.

“Quite a fortunate discovery for you,” returned Mr. Lilburn with a kindly smile, while the captain’s look was full of gratified approval.

“My dear little daughter,” he said when he came to bid her good-night in her room, “your willingness to stay at home and attend to lessons instead of going to the city to help Marian with her shopping pleases me very much, because it shows that you have confidence in your father’s wisdom and his love for you.”

He smoothed her hair caressingly and kissed her as he spoke.

“Thank you for telling me that, you dear papa,” she returned, her eyes shining. “I know you love me, and that your requirements are always meant for my good; also that you are very wise and know what is best for your own little girl. Oh, I’m so glad I am your very own!” she added, hugging him with all her strength.

“Not gladder than I am to own you, my darling,” he said, repeating his caress. “I should like to give you the pleasure of going were it not that I feel that you have had already more interruptions to your studies than ought really to have been allowed.”

“Yes, papa, I believe I have,” she returned, “and as I do want to be as well educated as possible, so that I may be very useful if God spares my life, I really do not want you to indulge me more in play-times and holidays than you think best.”