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“That’s great! I sure hope he does. I’ll be back all right—that is, if you’ll have a place for me,” Bob finished, speaking to Mr. Whitney who had come up to the group.,

“John!” screamed Mother, starting up. “Oh, Johnny! my boy, my boy! Is it really you?”,

In one of the friars of the convent, madame was surprized to find the father who had confessed the dying Vincent. His appearance revived the remembrance of the scene she had witnessed at the castle of Mazzini; and the last words of Vincent, combined with the circumstances which had since occurred, renewed all her curiosity and astonishment. But his appearance excited more sensations than those of wonder. She dreaded lest he should be corrupted by the marquis, to whom he was known, and thus be induced to use his interest with the Abate for the restoration of Julia.,

“It’s my party,” continued John, “and I am to invite as many as I please.”

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When the feasting was over, there was a call for silence. It came from Father, who stood again at the top of the marble steps and was evidently going to make a speech. All the children flocked together near the steps, in the sunshine, and hundreds of childish faces were upturned towards the speaker. Behind Father, on the veranda, at the windows, and in the doorways stood John’s aged friends, among them Katrina in her bright red dress and Jeremias the wood-cutter in the mayor’s light coat that was altogether too small for him. Jeremias had been to the Kingthorpe woodshed the first thing, for there was something he understood; but now he had stationed himself behind Father. The crippled child sat on the lowest step, his pockets stuffed full of plums.,

On the return of the good woman, who had accompanied madame to the village on the preceding night, Julia went to the cottage at Farrini. Her grateful heart would not suffer her to depart without taking leave of her faithful friends, thanking them for their kindness, and informing them of her future prospects. They had prevailed upon her to spend the few intervening hours at this cot, whence she had just risen to meet madame.,

“You bet I have. A whole heap. Bet it’ll make your hair curl—”,

“Come on back next summer,” cried Ted Hoyt, who had been given a few minutes from his work to bid his friend good-bye. “And perhaps I’ll go East with you afterwards. My father says he might let me if I’m still so loco about it!”