"Oh, John, I'm so rejoiced you've come back safely!" she cried, as she kissed him, adding quickly: "And dear Paul's really better?"

"Yes," he answered, "really better, thank God!"

He turned to the little girls and kissed them affectionately, then, taking Josephine by the hand, led her into the drawing-room, the others following. Josephine, searching his face with eager, anxious eyes, saw that it looked pale and weary, and very sad.

"Please tell me all about father," she said tremulously, "I want to know all. Oh, please, please, don't keep anything back!"

"I will not," he assured her. He seated himself on a sofa and drew her down by his side. "As you know your father was injured in the face and head," he continued, "and he had not long regained consciousness before I saw him. He is in a large hotel at Boulogne, which is being used as a hospital. My dear—" his voice faltered with deep emotion— "I shall never forget the cry of pleasure Paul gave when he heard my voice, and I shall always be thankful that I obeyed the impulse which prompted me to go to him at once! I saw him twice. On the second occasion he said he did not wish me to remain longer—you see I could do no good there and was only in the way. Poor dear fellow! The doctors say his face will not be much disfigured—"

"Oh, I am glad of that!" Josephine broke in joyfully, "I've been thinking that it would be, and I know Aunt Ann has too!"

"And they say also that in their opinion in a few months he will be quite restored to health," Mr. Basset proceeded, taking no apparent heed of the interruption, "for he has a splendid constitution. The trouble is about his sight."

The old man's clasp on the little hand he held tightened as he spoke. He glanced significantly at his sister, who had sank into an easy chair, and shook his head slightly. Josephine noted the gesture, and a sudden chill feeling of dread fell upon her heart. She shivered as she asked—

"Do you mean that his eyes are hurt, Uncle John?"

"Yes, my dear," Mr. Basset admitted sadly, "and badly hurt. He knows it himself—spoke of it, in fact. It is a great blow to him, of course, but your father is a brave man and a Christian. He bade me tell you the truth—that he will never see again—"