A new graft on the family tree

by Pansy

There were tears in her eyes. Then John felt savage toward Estelle; he said to himself that he didn't believe he should be able to endure her; she must be a little simpleton. To have grown-up under the influence of such a sister, and yet to have deliberately chosen a course that would grieve her, argued ill for her heart or her sense or something. Altogether, though he desired to help, Louise was not awakening very hopeful sentiments toward helpfulness. There was a good understanding established between this brother and sister. For that matter, the reconstructed household understood each other well during these days—had begun to realize something of what the family relation meant.

John was certainly "a new creature in Christ Jesus." It is not always that the new life has so plain a chance of showing itself as his former life had given. No Christian doubted the presence of the unseen Guest who had come to abide with him. As for the father, while keeping absolute silence in regard to the matter, he kept also keen eyes, and told himself, a dozen times a day, that "whatever had come over John, he was another person." By slow degrees the Morgan family had settled into definite plans for the future—plans that were not matured without some soreness of heart, and even, on Louise's part, a touch of tears. The giving up of future prospects of usefulness in the church had been a trial to Lewis, and the giving up had been done by inches. At last, however, it had been made plain that, if he would keep what health and strength he had, he must be content with an active outdoor life. This settled beyond probability of a change, the father was found entirely willing to loose his hold on John, and give him, what had been the desire of his heart, a medical education. At least, he said that for this reason he was willing. Those of the family who watched him closely strongly suspected that there was very little that the father would not have been willing to give John during these days.

The father, in himself, was somewhat changed. There were other things that he was willing to do. For instance, he invited Lewis, one bright winter day when they happened to come home together, to take Louise out and pick out the spot where he would like to build a house, and they would see what kind of a one could be built one of these days. Now, strange to say, the desire to have a home of their own was less intense than it had been. They talked it up; they said it would be "nice," in fact, delightful; and then, in the same breath, Lewis wondered what mother would do when Dorothy went away; and Louise wondered whether Dorothy wouldn't need her help right there at home for the next year or two; and finally, though they made no objection to picking out the site, and even planned the house—built it, indeed, on paper a good many times—still they unanimously agreed that nothing definite could be done about it until spring. The truth was, the necessity for a home by themselves was not so apparent to this young couple as it had been. Now that spring, yes, even summer, was fairly upon them, the question of house came up again, brought forward by Farmer Morgan himself.

"Not that I am in a hurry," he said, with a little embarrassed laugh; "in fact, I hope it will be about five years in getting built, and you five more or so getting moved. I've no notion of what this house would be without you; but what I'm after is, I've made up my mind it is your right to have your own house, and I mean you shall have it."

So the house was a settled fact; and Lewis and his wife were undeniably pleased, yet nobody hurried. The necessity for haste in the matter was past.

So, as I say, they had journeyed into June, when Estelle was to make her first visit at the farmhouse. She was to have come the summer before, but home matters had detained her; and Louise, as she arranged roses in the white vases of her room, rejoiced that it had been so, and smiled over the different dress the home and family wore from that which they would have worn to Estelle only a year before. These were the closing touches to the adornments; for Lewis had already gone to the train to meet his sister, accompanied by Dorothy and little Nellie. Louise, under plea of escaping from the afternoon sun, declined the ride; in reality, feeling not sure of herself, lest when she got that bright young sister in her arms again she might not disgrace the welcome by crying outright. Who would have supposed that the months of separation would have stretched themselves out so! Louise was to have gone home certainly in a year from the date of her departure, and yet she didn't. It often happens in this world that, with all our planning, our lives move in exactly different lines from what we have prepared. So Louise had really never looked upon the face of her beautiful young sister since that morning when she became a bride. It is surely not much wonder that her heart beat hard at the sound of carriage-wheels, and it seemed to her, for a moment, that she could not get down the stairs.

It was not until just as daylight was fading that John came to be introduced to the new-comer. He had planned differently; but unexpected business had detained him at the village until a late hour, then he had taken his supper alone, and came to the piazza to meet Estelle, just as they were about adjourning to the house.

"Come," Louise said; "these insects must be shut out and you must be shut in. Oh, here comes John."

At that moment Dorothy brought the large lamp, and the glow of it fell full on Estelle's face. John had decidedly dreaded this ordeal. His life had been spent so much in shadow that there were certain creations before whom he was unreasonably timid—among these were young ladies; and to meet one, too, whom he was expected to help was formidable. Still, John's strong point was decision of character. What had to be done was to be done promptly, and with as little appearance of shrinking as possible. So he advanced boldly and raised his eyes to Estelle's fair, bright face. But instead of the greeting, in every way cordial, which he had planned, he gave Estelle the benefit of a prolonged astonished stare; and at last the words, uttered in an explosive tone, as by one from whom they were forced by astonishment, were,—

"You are the very one!"