"Good-bye has come again, Mrs. Gower," said Buckingham. "One must always regret leaving Holmnest; but I have only time to catch my train."
"Good-bye, and may all your wishes be granted."
Miss O'Sullivan, saying she must really go, took Miss Crew (who had a new light in her face), Mr. McCullogh accompanying them.
"I am fortunate," said Mr. Blair, as the portière hangings closed after them; Mrs. Gower smiled.
"Rest, after running about; though I think the fashion of New Year's calls is fast dying out."
"It is, undoubtedly; this is my third and last. You are looking well after your frosty drive," he said, seating himself at the gilt stand beside her.
"Don't you think my friends have good taste?" she said, directing his attention to the cards and booklets; "this white ivory card is pretty, with its golden edge, white roses, and snowdrops, and gold bells, as they ring,
"May every Christmas chime awaken in your heart
Each bliss of by-gone years in which your life had part."
"Yes," he said, thoughtfully, "if one could only drink a good bumper of the waters of Lethe, and forget the pain, remembering only the bliss."
"But 'tis the memory of the bliss that brings the pain; at least I have found it so," she said gravely.