"Papa, Louise—you know that she too has lost her husband—and Enna are all at the Oaks; for Roselands is a ruin, Ion not very much better, Lora says."
"And the Oaks has escaped?"
"Yes, almost entirely; not being visible from the road. Papa sends a message to you. He is too heart-broken to write. He knows he is welcome in your house; he is longing to see you, now his only son——" Adelaide's voice faltered, and it was a moment ere she could go on—"but he would have you stay away till September, not risking a return during the hottest season; and, if you wish, he will attend to the plantation, hiring blacks to work it."
"My poor, poor old father!" Mr. Dinsmore exclaimed, with emotion. "Welcome in my house? If I had but a dollar, I would share it with him."
"He shall never want a home, while any of us live!" sprang simultaneously from the lips of Mr. Allison and Mr. Travilla.
Adelaide and Elsie were too much moved to speak, but each gave her husband a look of grateful affection.
"Thank you both," Mr. Dinsmore said. "Adelaide, I shall write my father to-day. Does Lora say that he is well?"
Mrs. Allison could hardly speak for tears, as she answered, "He is not ill, but sadly aged by grief and care. But you shall read the letter for yourself. Stay to breakfast with us (there's the bell), and I'll give it to you afterwards."
"Thanks; but I fear they may wait breakfast for me at the other house."
"No; I will send them word at once that we have kept you."