“And you are happy, I hope, Miss Lettice? It must be a great pleasure for you to see your father again. You did not expect I would be here to-night, did you?” he asked abruptly.
“No, I did not.”
“My cousins would have it that I must come down to spend Christmas, and then nothing would do but I must stay for this affair. I had to refuse at first, but Tyler insisted, and when I knew your father would be here, I consented.” The two looked at each other, and there was a complete understanding of the state of affairs without further explanation.
“Have you been in Washington all this while?” Lettice asked.
“No, I returned to Boston for a short time. I made a visit to my sister; she is my only near relative, you know; and then, as I was not in sympathy with the Federalist movement, in which so many of my friends up there believed, I thought I would return to Baltimore and see what I could do as a landsman. I have been rather hopeless about my future till now.”
“And now?” The look of interest and loving sympathy in Lettice’s eyes was almost too much for the young man’s self-control.
“I am more encouraged,” he told her after a moment’s pause, in which it seemed to him that she must hear the wild beating of his heart. “I shall remain in Baltimore, and may I hope to see you there? You will be at your uncle’s for the present?”
“I think so, and—yes, I will be glad to see you there.” She wondered if he had the faintest idea of how glad. “Hark, there is twelve o’clock striking,” she exclaimed; “it is the New Year. I can be the first to offer you my good wishes. May it be a happy year to you!”
“May it bring you much joy!” he returned, bending over and kissing her hand; surely that little offering of homage might be allowed him on the occasion of the dawn of a new year.
“Happy New Year!” called one to another. “Happy New Year!”