"That is just it—you know—Lottie Piper," exclaimed Flora disconnectedly.
"Yes, yes," said Joel, eagerly; "I'm her brother. I remember now. You are Flora Hazeley. Well, well," he cried, accepting Flora's invitation to enter the room, where he saw his friend Harry, for whom he was hunting. "I was just looking for you, Hal," said he, having first been presented to Mrs. Hazeley, who was delighted to welcome the young man who had done so much for her Harry. "I was looking for you, Hal, but I had no idea I should meet an old acquaintance, in the shape of your sister. But that reminds me," he added, sadly, "I have been to the old home. No wonder I didn't hear from them. Sickness, death, and desolation! I found the home, but no one in it."
"How could that be?" asked Harry.
"I know," said Flora, gently. "I saw Lottie for a few moments the other day, and she told me all about it. I am so sorry."
"Is my sister here?" Joel asked, eagerly.
"Yes, she is here—in Bartonville; she is living with her aunt."
"I know," said Joel, "my father's sister. I shall be glad to see Lottie; but mother is gone, and now it is too late."
"No, no, Joel, don't talk that way," said Harry, soothingly. "You have no need to say that. You haven't come home as you left it. And suppose your mother is not here, don't you think she knows all about it? And then, there is your sister, you know."
"That is all true, Harry. It would have been hard to have come back as I went away, and found her gone. I could not have helped the little girl then. But one thing more," he said, turning to Flora, who was wiping her eyes in sympathy. "Where is my father?"
"Lottie says he went away somewhere, to work."