Because of the near approach of his appointed wedding-day Mr. Dinsmore could not linger long in Pleasant Plains. All felt the parting keenly, for even in the few days they had spent together a strong attachment had sprung up between Elsie and her cousins, while the renewal of former congenial intercourse had strengthened the tie of affection that had long existed between Mrs. Keith and her Cousin Horace.

Fan and Annis wept so bitterly as the stage whirled away out of sight, that their mother and Mildred found it necessary to deny themselves the indulgence of their own grief in order to comfort them.

At the same time Mr. Dinsmore was wiping the tears from Elsie's eyes, and soothing her with tender caresses and the hope that she and Mildred and Annis would meet again before a great while.

"Who knows," he said in cheery tones, "but we may be able to persuade their father and mother to let them spend the winter at the Oaks next year!"

"O papa, how nice that would be!" exclaimed the child, smiling through her tears; "will you ask them?"

"Yes; if you will stop crying now. Perhaps if you keep on I may be tempted to join you," he added jestingly, "and how ashamed we would both feel."

That made Elsie laugh. Then he interested her in plans for purchasing gifts for the cousins they had just left, and for her "new mamma," when they should reach New York, and soon she was quite her usual sunny self.

Fortunately up to this time their little party had been the only occupants of the stage.

We have not space to speak further of their journey, which brought them finally to Philadelphia, Miss Rose Allison's home, and where the wedding was to take place.

On arriving in that city Mr. Dinsmore sent Elsie and her nurse to Mr. Allison's, while he, with his servant John, went to a hotel. He was to be married the next morning, and it was already late in the afternoon, so the separation would not be for long.

While taking his supper at the hotel table Mr. Dinsmore became the unconscious object of close scrutiny by a gentleman seated nearly opposite; a rather fine-looking man, tall, well-proportioned, with good features, an open, intelligent countenance, benevolent expression, clear blue eyes, light brown hair and beard.

"I can hardly be mistaken; it is no common face; but I will make certain," the stranger said to himself, as he rose and left the room at the conclusion of his meal.

He went to the hotel register and found Mr. Dinsmore's name among those entered that day. He saw it with a thrill of pleasure; and yet—"well, he could not know till he had tried to renew the acquaintance, whether to do so would be agreeable to the friend of his boyhood."

Mr. Dinsmore retired to his own apartment on leaving the table, and had scarcely done so when a servant handed in a card.

"Charles Landreth, M.D.," was the inscription it bore. Mr. Dinsmore read it at a glance. His first emotion was surprise, the next a mixture of feelings.

"Show the gentleman up here; tell him I shall be happy to see him," he said to the waiter. Then, as the man closed the door and departed, he turned and paced the floor with slow, meditative step.

"It may be a good Providence that brings us together so unexpectedly just at this time," he said to himself. "I should never have expected dishonorable conduct from my old chum Charlie Landreth, and I'll give him the benefit of the doubt as long as I can. Ah, God grant I may be able to set this matter right for poor Mildred!"

Steps approached, the door opened, and the two stood face to face.

"Horace! you have not forgotten me?" The voice, the grasp of the hand, the beaming countenance, all spoke such sincere pleasure, such warmth of friendship, that Mr. Dinsmore's doubts vanished; that was not the face of a false, cold-hearted villain. He returned the greeting as cordially as it was given.

"Forgotten you, Charlie? No, indeed! and I'm particularly glad that you have made yourself known to-night; for to-morrow I shall be on my way south again."

"Ah, going back to the old neighborhood where we were boys together," and Charlie heaved a sigh to the memory of the days of auld lang syne, as he accepted a mute invitation to be seated. "Have you been long absent?" he asked.

"For several months. I am lately returned from Indiana, where I have been visiting my cousins the Keiths."

As he pronounced the name Mr. Dinsmore looked keenly at his companion.

Landreth flushed hotly and his look was both eager and pained as he responded, with a little hesitation in his speech. "Ah! and were they—all well?"

"Yes, thank you, and prospering. One of the girls—there are five in all—is married."

"Mildred?" asked his listener in a hoarse whisper, and with half-averted face.

"No; she is still single, and it struck me as strange, for she is a most lovely and attractive girl in both person and character."

"I think I never saw one to whom Wordsworth's description was more truly applicable."

Landreth turned and grasped Mr. Dinsmore's hand, his face all aglow with hope and joy. "You have lifted me from the depths of despair!" he said in tremulous tones.

"You have cared for her?"

"Loved her as never man loved woman before!"

Mr. Dinsmore smiled at that, thinking of Rose, and his early love, the mother of his child, but did not care to combat the assertion. "She is worthy of it," was all he said.

"I heard she was married, and it nearly killed me," Landreth went on. "But I could not blame her, for she had steadily refused to pledge herself to me."

"But where have you been all these years, and how is it that I find you here now, Charlie? I should be glad to hear your story."

"I went first to the mines of South America," Landreth said, "saw very hard times for the first two years, then met with a wonderful turn of fortune—coming quite unexpectedly upon a very large nugget of gold. I didn't stay long after that. I had written to Mildred a good many times, but never received a line from her, and almost the first news I heard on returning to my native land was that of her marriage. As I have said, it nearly killed me; but, Dinsmore, my bitter sorrow and disappointment did for me what perhaps nothing else could. I sought and found Him, of whom Moses in the law and the prophets did write, Jesus of Nazareth, the sinner's Saviour and Friend."

"Thank God for that, Charlie!" Mr. Dinsmore returned with emotion; and again their hands met in a warm brotherly clasp.

"Having found him," continued Landreth, "of course his service became my first object in life. I looked about for a sphere of usefulness, and decided upon the medical profession, because I had discovered that I had a liking for it, the necessities of the men in my employ having led me to dip into it a little. So I came here to pursue my studies, received my diploma a year ago, have been practicing in the hospitals since, and am now looking about for the best place in which to begin my career as a private physician and surgeon."

"Plenty of room in the West," observed Mr. Dinsmore sententiously and with a sparkle of fun in his eye.

Landreth sprang up. "And my darling is there, and you have given me hope that I may yet win her! Dinsmore, I shall make the necessary arrangements immediately, and set off for Pleasant Plains at the earliest possible moment."

"Right, Charlie; and you have my best wishes for your success both with her and in your chosen profession. But I hope you will not leave Philadelphia before to-morrow noon. I want you at my wedding. Mildred and the rest will be glad to hear an account of it from an eye-witness."

"Your wedding?"

"Yes, it is to take place at nine to-morrow morning. And I want the pleasure of introducing my intended cousin to my bride; to say nothing of showing you one whose charms of person and character are not eclipsed by even those of sweet and lovely Mildred Keith."

"She must be worth seeing, if that be the case," Landreth answered with a smile. "And I am keeping you from her now, I daresay; for which she certainly will not thank me."

"She is too kind-hearted not to be more than content for Mildred's and your sake."

"Mildred's do you say?" and Landreth's face was one glow of delight.

"Yes, Charlie, for Mildred's; since you have so frankly told me how it is with you, I shall not conceal from you that it is for your sake the sweet girl has remained single in spite of several good offers. I learned it from my Cousin Marcia, her mother. And while I think of it," he added laughingly, "let me assure you that Marcia will make—does make—a model mother-in-law."

"I should be glad indeed to try her in that capacity," returned Landreth lightly. "I think it will hardly be possible for me to leave before to-morrow noon; so accept your invitation with thanks, Dinsmore. I have a curiosity to see your bride, and a very strong desire to renew my acquaintance with your little daughter, whom I used to see quite frequently in the first two years of her stay at Roselands. I have always thought her the sweetest little creature I ever beheld. She is with you of course?"

"In the city? Yes; you will see her to-morrow," Mr. Dinsmore answered, looking highly gratified by the encomium upon his darling child.

After a little more chat, principally of mutual friends and the changes that had taken place in their old neighborhood since Landreth left it, they separated with another cordial hand-shaking, both extremely glad of the casual meeting, and expecting to meet again on the morrow.