e letter is sealed. Now the lights are out. Mr. Jack, tranquil and
happy, having at last made Lydia "take the idee" to his satisfaction,
has tip-toed his way to his bachelor room above the stable, and Watch
settles himself upon the wide piazza to spend the pleasant midsummer
night out of doors.

Sleep well, good old Watch! To-morrow will be a busy day for you. Very
early, a trim young man will come with a message from the telegraph
office, and you will have to bark and howl as he approaches, and slowly
subside when Dorothy rushes down to receive the telegram, which tells of
a certain ship being sighted at daylight off Sandy Hook. Then affairs at
the stable will occupy you. Jack, getting out the carriage in a hurry,
never heeding your growls and caresses, will drive to the house, and
(while you are wildly threading your way between wheels and the horses'
legs) Uncle George, Josie, and Dorothy, radiant with expectation, will
enter the vehicle, Jack will mount to the box, and off they will start
for the railway station!

Lydia--happy soul!--will call "Come back, Watch!" and then, resting on
the piazza again, you may amuse yourself with the flies that try to
settle on your nose, or dream of a wild race with your young master,
while she makes the house fairly shine for the welcoming that is soon to
be.

* * * * *

. . . Wake up, old Watch! "To-morrow" is here. Even now Uncle George,
Josie, and Dorothy are on the Express-train for New York. It shakes and
trembles with excess of speed, yet it is all too slow to satisfy the
happy three who are going at last to see their ship come in.

Lydia Blum, are you aware that this is the twentieth time that you have
"just run up and put the finishin' touch to Mr. Donald's room"? Ah, how
pleased he will be when he learns that, after your wedding, you and Jack
are to continue living on the place just the same, excepting that you
are to have a little cottage of your own!

And you, Charity Danby,--so trim, rosy, and joyful for Dorothy's
sake,--don't you see how you are hindering Kassy with your nosegays and
garlands and vines trailing all through the house?

And, Jack, how can you wait till it is time to drive to the train but by
working like mad in the stables, in the carriage-house, in the
gymnasium,--anywhere, everywhere,--so that the boy will be all the more
delighted when he comes?

Hark, now, Liddy! Don't you hear something? No, that was only the