cca musingly.

The DOCTOR (continuing his soliloquy.)--"They are strong, but they are
not immediately apparent."

Mrs. RICCABOCCA (resuming hers.)--"They are at the bottom of the
knapsack."

The DOCTOR.--"They will stand long wear and tear."

Mrs. RICCABOCCA.--"A year, at least, with proper care at the wash."

The DOCTOR (startled.)--"Care at the wash! What on earth are you talking
of, ma'am!"

Mrs. RICCABOCCA (mildly.)--"The shirts to be sure, my love! And you?"

The DOCTOR (with a heavy sigh.)--"The feelings, ma'am!" Then, after a
pause, taking his wife's hand affectionately--"But you did quite right
to think of the shirts; Mr. Dale said very truly--"

Mrs. RICCABOCCA.--"What?"

The DOCTOR.--"That there was a great deal in common between us--even
when I think of feelings, and you but of--shirts."

CHAPTER XXIII.

Mr. and Mrs. Avenel sat within the parlor--Mr. Richard stood on the
hearth-rug, whistling Yankee Doodle. "The Parson writes word that the
lad will come to-day," said Richard suddenly--"let me see the
letter--ay, to day. If he took the coach as far as ----, he might walk
the rest of the way in two or three hours. He should be pretty nearly
here. I have a great mind to go and meet him: it will save his asking
questions, and hearing about me. I can clear the town by the back way,
and get out at the high road."

"You'll not know him from any one else," said Mrs. Avenel.

"Well, that is a good one! Not know an Avenel! We've all the same cut of
the jib--have not we, father?"

Poor John laughed heartily, till the tears rolled down his cheeks.

"We were always a well-favored fam'ly," said John, recomposing himself.
"There was Luke, but he's gone; and Harry, but he's dead too, and Dick,
but he's in Amerikay--no, he's here; and my darling Nora, but--"

"Hush!" interrupted Mrs. Avenel; "hush, John!"

The old man stared at her, and then put his tremulous hand to his brow.
"And Nora's gone too!" said he, in a voice of profound woe. Both hands
then fell on his knees, and his head drooped on his breast.

Mrs. Avenel rose, kissed her husband on the forehead, and walked away to
the window. Richard took up his hat, and brushed the nap carefully with
his handkerchief; but his lips quivered.

"I'm going," said he abruptly. "Now mind, mother, not a word about Uncle
Richard yet; we must first see how we like each other, and--(in a
whisper) you'll try and get that into my poor father's head?"

"Ay, Richar