which bring a few old
friends around the same board, who, forgetting all the little pinchings
and straits of narrow fortune, give themselves up for once to enjoyment
without a thought for the cost or a care for the morrow. I do not want
this to pass for sound morality, nor for a discreet line of conduct; I
only say that in the spirit that can subdue every sentiment that would
jar on the happiness of the hour there is a strength and vitality that
shows this feeling is not born of mere conviviality, but of something
deeper, and truer, and heartier.

"If we only had poor Jack here," whispered Augustus Bramleigh to
L'Estrange, as they drew around the Christmas fire, "I 'd say this was
the happiest hearth I know of."

"And have you no tidings of him?" said L'Estrange, in the same low tone;
for, although the girls were in eager talk together, he was afraid Julia
might overhear what was said.

"None, except that he sailed from China on board an American clipper
for Smyrna, and I am now waiting for news from the consul there, to whom
I have written, enclosing a letter for him."

"And he is serving as a sailor?"

Bramleigh nodded.

"What is the mysterious conversation going on there?" said Julia. "How
grave George looks, and Mr. Bramleigh seems overwhelmed with a secret of
importance."

"I guess it," said Nelly, laughing. "Your brother is relating your
interview with Sir Marcus Cluff, and they are speculating on what is to
come of it."

"Oh, that reminds me," cried L'Estrange, suddenly, "Sir Marcus's
servant brought me a letter just as I was dressing for dinner. Here it
is. What a splendid seal--supporters too! Have I permission to read?"

"Read, read by all means," cried Julia.

"'Dear Sir,--If I could have sufficiently conquered my bronchitis as
to have ventured out this morning, I would have made you my personal
apologies for not having received you last night when you did me the
honor to call, as well as opened to you by word of mouth what I am now
reduced to convey by pen.'"

"He is just as prolix as when he talks," said Julia.

"It's a large hand, however, and easy to read. 'My old enemy the
larynx--more in fault than even the bronchial tubes--is again in
arms--'"

"Oh, do spare us his anatomical disquisition, George. Skip him down to
where he proposes for me."

"But it is what he does not. You are not mentioned in the whole of it.
It is all about church matters. It is an explanation of why every one
ha