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It was the early summer when one evening I came in sight of my home. The windows and doors were open. Without hesitation I walked up the steps, forgetting the effect which my sudden appearance might produce on my family. One of my youngest sisters was in the passage. I beckoned to her. “What do you want?” she asked; “you must not stop here; go away.”

“What! don’t you know me?” I asked. “No,” she answered; “who are you?”

“Jack–your brother Jack,” I answered. On this she ran off into the drawing-room, and I heard her exclaim, “There’s a great big beggar boy, and he says he is Jack–our brother Jack.”

“Oh no, that cannot be!” I heard one of my other sisters reply. “Poor Jack was drowned long ago in the Naiad.”

“No, he was not,” I couldn’t help exclaiming; and without more ado I ran forward.

My appearance created no small commotion among three or four young ladies who were seated in the room. “Go away; how dare you venture in here?” exclaimed one or two of them.

“Will you not believe me?” I cried. “I am Jack, I assure you, and I hope soon to convince you of the fact.”

“It is Jack, I know it is!” exclaimed one of them, jumping up and coming forward. I knew her in an instant to be Grace Goldie, though grown almost into a young woman. “It is Jack, I am sure it is,” she added, taking my hand and leading me forward. “Oh, how strange that you do not know him!”

My sisters now came about me, examining me with surprised looks. “How strange, Grace,” said one; “surely you must be mistaken?”

“No, I am sure I am not,” answered Grace, looking into my face, and putting back the hair from my forehead; “Are you not Jack?”

“Yes, I believe I am,” I answered, “though if you did not say so I should begin to doubt the fact, since Ann, and Mary, and Jane, do not seem to know me.”

“Well, I do believe it is Jack,” cried Jane, coming up and taking my other hand, though I was so dirty that she did not, I fancy, like to kiss me. “So he is–he must be!” cried the others; and now, in spite of my tattered dress, their sisterly affection got the better of all other considerations, and they threw their arms about me like kind girls as they really were, and I returned their salutes, in which Grace Goldie came in for a share, with long unaccustomed tears in my eyes. Just then a shriek of astonishment was heard, and there stood Aunt Martha at the door. “Who have you got there?” she exclaimed. “It’s Jack come back,” answered my sisters and Grace in chorus. “Jack come back! impossible!” cried out Aunt Martha, in what I thought sounded a tone of dismay. “Yes, I am Jack, I assure you,” I said, going up to her; “and I hope to be your very dutiful and affectionate nephew, whatever you may once have thought me;” and I took her hand and raised it to my lips. “If you are Jack I am glad to see you,” she said, her feelings softening; “and it will at all events be a comfort to your poor mother to know that you are not drowned.”

“My mother! where is she?” I asked. “I trust she is not ill.”

“Yes, she is, I am sorry to say, and up-stairs in bed,” replied my aunt; “but I’ll go and break the news to her, lest the sound of all this hubbub should reach her ears, and make her inquire what is the matter.”

I had now time to ask about the rest of my family. My father was out, but was soon expected home, and in the meantime, while Aunt Martha had gone to tell my mother, by my sisters’ advice I went into the bedroom of one of my brothers, and washed, and dressed myself in his clothes. By the time Aunt Martha came to look for me I was in a more presentable condition than when I entered the house.