When Magnus returned to the family room he found the tea things had been already washed up and put away, the hearth swept, the fire replenished, and the two ladies with their needlework, and Hugh with his books, all gathered around the table that was lighted by but one tallow candle. He drew a chair up with the rest, and, putting his hand in his pocket, said:
“I have got a letter from Huttontown.”
“A letter from Huttontown!” exclaimed all three, looking eagerly up.
“Yes, from Mr. Wilson.”
“What’s the news? How is father?” asked Elsie.
“Does he speak of the general? How is he?” inquired Alice anxiously.
“How are all the folks? How is Aunt Joe and Nettie?” asked Hugh Hutton. All were speaking together, and all eagerly awaiting an answer.
“Peste! ladies and young gentleman, I cannot answer all at once,” said Magnus, smiling, yet with something constrained in his manner. “I will read the letter; it is very short; a mere note—a mere matter of business.”
“Well?” said Alice, seeing him pause.
“A mere announcement, in truth—a—but I will read it. Hugh, you’re discreet?”