ight and candle-light. The
Christmas tree was lighted in the next room and the voices and laughter
of the company floated to his ears. She had turned as he approached her
and he had seen tears on her cheeks. But she laughed as she perceived
his dismay.

"Ah, it is because Christmas always reminds me of papa. He has been
dead seven years yesterday."

One word had led to another and at length they had found their hands
clasped together.

"I would gladly have held this little hand fast that time in the
church. Would you have been angry, Gertrude?" and she had shaken her
head and looked up at him, smiling through her tears, trusting and
sweet, this proud young creature--his bride, soon to be his wife!

He started up out of his dream. The carriage stopped at the steps and
the house rose dark above him--only behind Aunt Rosa's windows was a
light still shining. He went up the steps as if in a dream and entered
the garden hall. He looked round as if he had entered the room for the
first time, so strange it looked, so changed, so bare and cold. And he
thought of the time when someone would be waiting for him here. He
could not imagine such happiness.

The door opened softly behind him and as he turned he saw Aunt Rosa
appearing like a ghost.

"I have been waiting for you, my dear nephew," she cried out in her
shrill voice; "I have found that letter at last, thank Heaven! It is
upstairs in your room, and it has taken a weight off my mind, I assure
you, Frank." She nodded kindly at him from under her enormous cap. "You
are late getting home. I am tired and am going to bed now. Goodnight,
good-night!"

And she moved lightly like a ghost to the door.

"Auntie!" cried a voice behind her so loud and gay that she turned
round in amazement. But then he was beside her and had clasped her in
both arms, and before she knew what was happening to her, the shy old
maiden lady felt a resounding kiss on her cheek.

"What on earth, Frank Linden--have you gone out of your mind?"

"O, auntie, I can't keep it to myself, I shall choke if I do. So don't
be cross. If I had my old mother here, I should kiss the old lady to
death for pure bliss. You must congratulate me. Gertrude Baumhagen will
be my wife."

Aunt Rosa's half-shocked, half-vexed countenance grew rigid. "Is it
possible," she whispered, in amazement, "she will marry into our old
house? And the family have consented?"

"A Baumhagen--yes! And she will marry into this old hou