CHAPTER VII.

FAIRVIEW AND ION.

IT had been a cloudy afternoon and the rain began to fall as, shortly after sunset, the Lelands left the cars for the Fairview family carriage.

"A dismal home-coming for you, my love," remarked Lester, as the coachman closed the door on them and mounted to his perch again.

"Oh, no!" returned Elsie brightly, "the rain is needed, and we are well sheltered from it. Yet I fear it may be dismal to Evelyn; but, my dear child, try to keep up your spirits; it does not always rain in this part of the country."

66 Oh, no! of course not, auntie," said the little girl, with a low laugh of amusement; "and I should not want to live here if it did not rain sometimes."

"I should think not, indeed," said her uncle. "Well, Eva, we will hope the warmth of your welcome will atone to you for the inclemency of the weather."

"Yes," said Elsie, "we want you to feel that it is a home-coming to you as well as to us." "Thank you both very much," murmured

Evelyn, her voice a little broken with the thought of her orphaned condition; "I shall try to deserve your great kindness."

"We have done nothing yet to call for so strong an expression of gratitude, Eva," remarked her uncle in a lively tone.

In kitchen and dining-room at Fairview great preparations were going forward; in the one a table was laid, with the finest satin damask, glittering silver, cut-glass and china; in the other sounds and scents told of a coming "feast of fat things."

"Clar to goodness! ef it ain't a pourin' down like de clouds was a wantin' for to drownd Miss Elsie an' de rest!" exclaimed a young mulatto girl, coming in from a back veranda, whence she had been taking an observation of the weather; "an' its that dark, Aunt Kitty, yo' couldn't see yo' hand afo' yo' face."

"Hope Uncle Cuff keep de road and don't upset de kerridge," returned Aunt Kitty, the cook, opening her oven-door to glance at a fine young fowl browning beautifully there, and sending forth a most savory smell.

"He'd larf at de wery idear of upsettin' dat vehicle, he would, kase he tinks dar ain't nobody else knows de road ekal to hisself; but den 'taint always de folks what makes de biggest boastin' dat kin do de best; am it now, Lizzie?”

"No, I reckon 'taint, Aunt Kitty; but doan

you be a prognosticatin' ob evil and skearin' folks out deir wits fo' de fac's am 'stablished."

"An' ain't gwine fo' to be 'stablished," put in another voice; "'spose de family been trabling roun' de worl' to come back an' git harm right afo' deir own do'? 'Co'se not.”

"Hark! dere dey is dis bressed minit', I hear de soun' o'de wheels and de hosses' feet," exclaimed Aunt Kitty, slamming to her oven-door, laying down the spoon with which she had been basting her fowl, and hastily exchanging her dark cotton apron for a white one.

She brought up the rear of the train of servants gathering in the hall to welcome their master and mistress.

A glad welcome it was; for both Lester and Elsie were greatly beloved by their dependents; and Evelyn, too, came in for a share of the hand-shakings, the "God bless yous," and was assured again and again that she was welcome to Fairview.

"Well, Aunt Kitty, I suppose you have one of your excellent suppers ready for us hungry travelers?" remarked Mr. Leland interrogatively, as he divested himself of his duster.

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"I'se done de wery bes' I knows, sah," she answered, dropping a courtesy and smiling all over her face. Eberyting am done to a turn, an' I hopes you, sah, and de ladies mos' ready to eat afo' de tings get spoiled."

"We won't keep your supper waiting many minutes, Aunt Kitty," said her mistress pleasantly.

"Myra take the baby to the nursery. Evelyn, my dear, we will go up stairs and I will show you your room."

Reaching the second floor, Elsie led the way into a spacious, luxuriously-furnished apartment. "This is your room, Eva," she said.

"It is just across the hall from your uncle's and mine; so I hope you will not feel lonely or timid. But if anything should alarm you at any time, come to our door and call to us."

"Thank you, dear Aunt Elsie. Such a beautiful room as it is!" exclaimed Evelyn. "How very kind you and Uncle Lester are to me!" There was a little tremble of emotion in the child's voice as she spoke.

Elsie put her arms lovingly about her. "Dear child," she said, "how could we be otherwise? We want you to feel that this is truly your own home, and to be very happy in it."

"I could not be so happy with any one else as with you and uncle," returned the little girl, with a sigh to the memory of the father she had loved so well.

"And to-morrow you shall see what a sweet home this is," Elsie said, releasing her with a kiss.

"Now we must hasten to make ourselves

ready for supper. A change of dress will not be necessary. There will be no company tonight, and your uncle would prefer seeing us in our traveling dresses to having his meal spoiled by waiting.'

Evelyn went to sleep that night to the music of the dashing of the rain upon the windows, but woke next morning to find the sun shining brightly in a deep blue sky wherein soft, fleecy white clouds were floating.

She drew aside the window curtain to take a peep at the surroundings of her new home. Lawn, shrubbery, flower garden, while larger than those at Crag Cottage, were quite as well kept; neatness and order, beauty and fragrance made them so attractive that Evelyn was tempted to a stroll while waiting for the call to breakfast.

She stole softly down the stairs, thinking her aunt and uncle might be still sleeping, but found the latter on the veranda, pacing to and fro with meditative air.

"Ah, good morning, little maid!" he said in a kindly tone." I hope you slept well and feel refreshed?"

"Yes, uncle, thank you," she returned. "Don't you enjoy being at home again after your long absence?"

"I do, indeed!" he answered; "there is no