"Home? Have we a home, my brother? Is it anything like these?" I asked, with a wild desire in my heart to cry out for joy.
"Come and see," was his only answer, as he turned into a side path leading toward an exquisitely beautiful house whose columns of very light gray marble shone through the green of the overhanging trees with most inviting beauty. Before I could join him, I heard a well-remembered voice saying close beside me:
"I just had to be the first to bid you welcome!" and looking around, I saw the dearly-beloved face of my old-time friend, Mrs. Wickham.
"Oh! Oh!" I cried, as we met in a warm embrace.
"You will forgive me, Col. Sprague," she said a moment later, giving her hand cordially to my brother. "It seems unpardonable to intercept you thus, in almost the first hour, but I heard that she was coming, and I could not wait. But now that I have looked upon her face, and heard her dear voice, I will be patient till I can have her for a long, long talk."
"You must come in and see her now," said my brother cordially.
"Do, do come!" I urged.
"No, dear friends, not now. You know, dear little Blossom," (the old pet name for me years ago) "we have all eternity before us! But you will bring her to me soon, Col. Sprague?" she said.
"Just as soon as I may, dear madam," he replied, with an expressive look into her eyes.
"Yes, I understand," she said softly, with a sympathetic glance at me. Then with a warm hand-clasp, and the parting injunction, "Come very soon," she passed swiftly out of my sight.