And now farewell, my _daughter_, mine by adoption,
if from no other cause.
"Write to me soon, and tell me if at home there is one who would
kindly welcome back.
"Your rough old UNCLE NAT."
"She'll answer that," the old man said, as he read it over.
"She'll tell me to come home," and, like a very child, his heart
bounded with joy as he thought of breathing again the air of the
western world.
The letter was sent, and with it we, too, will return to America,
and going backward for a little, take up our story at a period
three months subsequent to the time when Eugenia wrote to Uncle
Nat.
---------
CHAPTER XIV
MANAGEMENT.
One year had passed away since the night when Ella Hastings died,
and alone in his chamber the husband was musing of the past, and
holding, as it were, communion with the departed, who seemed this
night to be so near that once he said aloud, "Ella, are you with
me now?" But to his call there came no answer, save the falling of
the summer rain; and again, with his face upon the pillow, just as
it had lain one year ago, he asked himself if to the memory of the
dead he had thus long been faithful; if no thought of another had
mingled with his love for her; and was it to ascertain this that
she had come back to him to-night, for he felt that she was there,
and again he spoke aloud, "I have not forgotten you, darling; but
I am lonesome, oh, so lonesome, and the world looks dark and
drear.
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