“No, no, not any more,” said Hugh, pushing up his plate and cup.
Mrs. Hardcastle gave the signal, and they arose from the table. The children had also finished their milk and bread, and their mother took them upstairs to be put to bed, while Mrs. Garnet washed up the tea things and Dr. Hardcastle replenished the fire.
When the table was cleared away, and Elsie had returned, and they were all gathered around the evening fireside, deeply engaged in telling and in hearing all that had happened to each during the winter’s separation, Hugh suddenly clapped his hand to his pocket, with a “Lord bless my soul!”
“What’s the matter?”
“Oh, was ever such absence of mind!”
“Never in the world, of course. Only what’s it about?” laughed Dr. Hardcastle.
“Why, a letter—a letter that came in the same stage with myself—a letter from Huttontown, for you. I took it out of the office, and—indeed, I hope I have not lost it,” continued Hugh, fumbling first in one pocket and then in another. “Oh, here it is,” he exclaimed, producing the letter, and handing it to the doctor.
“The superscription is in a strange hand, to begin with—a lady’s hand. Whom can it be from?” said Dr. Hardcastle, breaking the seal. “Dated ‘Mount Calm.’”
“Mount Calm!” exclaimed all three of his hearers, in a breath.
“Yes, dated ‘Mount Calm,’ and signed ‘Garnet Seabright.’”