ning of a longer journey
than to Boston or New York. They were attractive, and, it was to be
supposed, liable to be attracted; he would not be so weak as to imagine
that their love for their father could long remain supreme. But this old
man, who had kept abreast of the learning of the world, and was scarred
with many a bruise and stab received during his life's journey; who had
filled a pulpit, too, and preached Christian humility to his fellow
townspeople, had yet so much human heat and pride glowing like embers in
his old heart as to feel strong within him a bitter jealousy and sense
of wrong toward whatever young upstarts should intrude themselves, and
venture to brag of a love for his flesh and blood which might claim
precedence over his own. Doubtless the feeling was unworthy of him, and
he would, when the time came, play his part generously and well; but, so
long as the matter was purely imaginary, we may allow him some natural
ebullition of feeling.

So powerful, indeed, was the effect produced upon Professor Valeyon by
the succession and conflict of gloomy and painful emotions, that he laid
down his black clay-pipe upon the broad arm of the easy-chair, and began
to search in all directions for his handkerchief: indulging himself
meanwhile with the base reflection that as there was no present
probability of depriving himself of his daughters, that ceremony must,
for a time at least, be postponed. While yet the handkerchief-hunt was
in full cry, the professor's ears caught the rattle and flap of the
opening gate, and following it the quick, vigorous tap of small
boot-heels upon the marble flagstones. Next came a light, rustling
spring up the creaking porch-steps, and ere the old gentleman could
get his head far enough over his knees to see down the entry, a
fresh-looking young woman appeared smiling in the door-way, dressed in
a tawny summer-suit, and holding up in one hand a long, slender envelop,
sealed with a conspicuous monogram, and stamped with the New York
post-mark.

CHAPTER II.

SIGNS OF A THUNDER-SHOWER.

Before the delivery of the letter, a very pretty little ceremony took
place. The professor had stretched forth his hand to receive it, when,
by a sudden turn of the wrist and arm, the young lady whisked it out of
his reach and behind her back, and in place of it brought down her
fresh, sweet face with its fragrant mouth to within two inches of his
own wrinkled and bristly visage. A moment