But they both roused up at last when they were brought into that house. Where were they now? and whose voices were those, so familiar and so dear, but not heard for many weeks?
Maggie opened her eyes with a start, wide-awake on the instant, and, immediately understanding all, gave a shriek of delight, sprang off the sofa where Uncle Ruthven had placed her, and was fast about Mrs. Rush’s neck, exclaiming,—
“It’s Newport! it is Newport! and this is Aunt May’s house, and papa has surprised us. Oh! lovely, lovely! Bessie! Bessie! wake up, and hear the good news.”
Bessie slowly opened her eyes at the call, not yet understanding; but as she saw the face that was bending over her, and knew that here was her “own dear solger,” whom she had so longed to see, she gave a long sigh of intense satisfaction, and, after her usual manner when her heart was full of love and tenderness, let two words speak for her,—
“Uncle Horace.”
There was no surprise in the tone, only unspeakable pleasure and affection; and she laid her head against his shoulder with an expression of utter content.
“This is the very best thing in all our travels,” said Maggie. “Where is May Bessie, Aunt May?”
“Fast asleep in her cradle, and I can’t let you peep at her to-night,” said Mrs. Rush. “We’ll keep that for the morning.”