open writing-desk, pens, paper, and over it a shelf of
well-selected books.

This was George's study. The same zeal for self-improvement, which led
him to steal the much coveted arts of reading and writing, amid all the
toil and discouragements of his early life, still led him to devote all
his leisure time to self-cultivation.

At this present time, he is seated at the table, making notes from a
volume of the family library he has been reading.

"Come, George," says Eliza, "you've been gone all day. Do put down that
book, and let's talk, while I'm getting tea,--do."

And little Eliza seconds the effort, by toddling up to her father, and
trying to pull the book out of his hand, and install herself on his knee
as a substitute.

"O, you little witch!" says George, yielding, as, in such circumstances,
man always must.

"That's right," says Eliza, as she begins to cut a loaf of bread. A
little older she looks; her form a little fuller; her air more matronly
than of yore; but evidently contented and happy as woman need be.

"Harry, my boy, how did you come on in that sum, today?" says George, as
he laid his land on his son's head.

Harry has lost his long curls; but he can never lose those eyes and
eyelashes, and that fine, bold brow, that flushes with triumph, as he
answers, "I did it, every bit of it, _myself_, father; and _nobody_
helped me!"

"That's right," says his father; "depend on yourself, my son. You have a
better chance than ever your poor father had."

At this moment, there is a rap at the door; and Eliza goes and opens
it. The delighted--"Why! this you?"--calls up her husband; and the good
pastor of Amherstberg is welcomed. There are two more women with him,
and Eliza asks them to sit down.

Now, if the truth must be told, the honest pastor had arranged a little
programme, according to which this affair was to develop itself; and,
on the way up, all had very cautiously and prudently exhorted each other
not to let things out, except according to previous arrangement.

What was the good man's consternation, therefore, just as he
had motioned to the ladies to be seated, and was taking out his
pocket-handkerchief to wipe his mouth, so as to proceed to his
introductory speech in good order, when Madame de Thoux upset the whole
plan, by throwing her arms around George's neck, and letting all out at
once, by saying, "O, George! don't you know me? I'm your sister Emily."

Cassy had seated herself more