He began to cry and wail like a child. It was so different to all which Margaret had hoped and expected, that she turned sick with disappointment, and was silent for an instant. Then she spoke again--very differently--not so exultingly, far more tenderly and carefully.
"Papa, it is Frederick! Think of mamma, how glad she will be! And oh, for her sake, how glad we ought to be! For his sake, too,--our poor, poor boy!"
Her father did not change his attitude, but he seemed to be trying to understand the fact.
"Where is he?" asked he at last, his face still hidden in his prostrate arms.

He began to cry like a child. It was so different to all that Margaret had hoped and expected, that she turned sick with disappointment. After a moment she spoke again very differently - not so exultingly, far more tenderly.
'Papa, it is Frederick! Think of mamma, how glad she will be! And oh, for her sake, how glad we ought to be! For his sake, too!'
With his face still hidden, he asked, 'Where is he?'
