as called out
of the room."

"Too late," remarked Fritz.

"Herbert Philipson had arrived that same morning; but, as Fritz
observes, he was just an hour too late. He had acquired a fortune, but
his long-cherished hopes of happiness were completely blasted."

"Why did he stay away five years without writing?" inquired Mrs.
Wolston.

"He had written several times, but at that time no regular post had
been established, and his letters had never reached their
destination."

"When did he find out that Cecilia was married?"

"Well, some people think it more humane to kill a man by inches rather
than by a single blow of the axe. Not so with Herbert's friends; the
first news that greeted him on landing were, that his ever-remembered
Cecilia was probably at that moment before the altar pledging her vows
to another."

"I should rather have had a chimney-pot tumble on my head," remarked
Willis.

"Herbert was a man in every sense of the word--the mode of his
departure proves that. On hearing this painful intelligence, he simply
covered his face with his hands, and, after a moment's thought,
resolved to see his lost bride at least once more."

"Poor Herbert!" sighed Mary.

"Foster was thunderstruck when the stranger declared himself to be the
son of his old friend; and, after cordially bidding him welcome,
sorrowfully asked him what he meant to do. 'I should wish to see Mrs.
Lindsey in presence of her husband,' he replied, 'providing you have
no objections to introduce me to the company.'"

"Bravo!" ejaculated Willis.

"Foster could not refuse this favor to an unfortunate, who had just
been disinherited of his dearest hopes. He, therefore, took Herbert by
the hand and led him into the room. Nobody recognized him. 'Ladies and
gentlemen,' said he, 'permit me to introduce Mr. Herbert Philipson,
who has just arrived from Sumatra.' You may readily conceive the
dismay this unexpected announcement called up into the countenances of
the guests. There was only one person in the room who was calm,
tranquil, and unmoved--that person was Cecilia herself. She rose
courteously, bade him welcome, hoped he was well, coolly asked him why
he had not written to his friends, and politely asked him to take a
seat beside herself and husband, just, for all the world, as if he had
been some country cousin or poor relation to whom she wished to show a
little attention."

"I would rather have been at the bottom of the sea than in her place,