was fragrant with flowers, sent by male and female
friends; on the table lay beautiful presents for greeting and
remembrance, but none could come from George--none could come from
him; but it was not necessary, for the whole house was full of
remembrances of him. Even out of the ash-bin the blossom of memory
peeped forth, for Emily had sat whimpering there on the day when the
window-curtain caught fire, and George arrived in the character of
fire engine. A glance out of the window, and the acacia tree
reminded of the days of childhood. Flowers and leaves had fallen,
but there stood the tree covered with hoar frost, looking like a
single huge branch of coral, and the moon shone clear and large
among the twigs, unchanged in its changings, as it was when George
divided his bread and butter with little Emily.

Out of a box the girl took the drawings of the Czar's palace and
of her own castle--remembrances of George. The drawings were looked
at, and many thoughts came. She remembered the day when, unobserved by
her father and mother, she had gone down to the porter's wife who
lay dying. Once again she seemed to sit beside her, holding the
dying woman's hand in hers, hearing the dying woman's last words:
"Blessing George!" The mother was thinking of her son, and now Emily
gave her own interpretation to those words. Yes, George was
certainly with her on her birthday.

It happened that the next day was another birthday in that
house, the General's birthday. He had been born the day after his
daughter, but before her of course--many years before her. Many
presents arrived, and among them came a saddle of exquisite
workmanship, a comfortable and costly saddle--one of the Princes had
just such another. Now, from whom might this saddle come? The
General was delighted. There was a little note with the saddle. Now if
the words on the note had been "many thanks for yesterday's
reception," we might easily have guessed from whom it came. But the
words were "From somebody whom the General does not know."

"Whom in the world do I not know?" exclaimed the General. "I
know everybody;" and his thoughts wandered all through society, for he
knew everybody there. "That saddle comes from my wife!" he said at
last. "She is teasing me--charming!"

But she was not teasing him; those times were past.

Again there was a feast, but it was not in the General's house, it
was a fancy ball at the Prince's, and masks were allowed too.

The Gener