"Oh, I hope it isn't a call to the country," remarked Mildred, as her husband made haste to obey the summons.
The conversation in the parlor went on, no one supposing the caller a person in whom any of them had an interest.
As the doctor entered the sitting-room the stranger rose and held out his hand. "Very glad to see you again, Dr. Landreth. You have not forgotten me?" he said inquiringly, and with a humorous look.
"I am afraid I have, sir; if ever I had the pleasure of your acquaintance," was the reply, as the offered hand was taken, and the doctor gazed doubtfully into the bronzed and bearded face.
"Ah, Charlie, is your memory so short?" Rupert asked in a half-reproachful tone, holding fast his brother-in-law's hand and looking him steadily in the eyes.
"Why!" gasped the doctor, "it isn't, it can't be—"
"Yes, it can be, and it is," laughed Rupert, though his voice trembled with emotion; "God has mercifully spared me and brought me back again to my father's house. Are all well? Can you prepare my mother for the news that I am yet alive and here?"
"In a moment—when I have myself so far recovered from the shock as to be fully able to control my voice," answered the doctor jocosely, but with a very perceptible tremble in his tones. "My dear fellow, if I am so overcome with happiness, what will she be?"
"Joy seldom kills?" Rupert said interrogatively.
"Rarely; and yet it has been fatal in some instances. We must move with caution."