The girl would willingly have hidden herself, and had literally to be dragged in by her father, blushing and timid. Loud cheers greeted the girl's appearance, and a glass was filled for her from the punch-bowl by Mr. Oldstone himself with the silver ladle, at the bottom of which a golden guinea had been inlaid.
"All right, my girl," said Mr. Oldstone, "toss it off. No harm in just one glass. Now, then, all—to the health of our absent artist friend, Mr. Vandyke McGuilp, and all his belongings—also to his speedy return—with a hip, hip, hip, hurrah!"
With a charming modesty and grace, like that of a high-born lady, did this simple country girl join in the toast proposed; then, putting down her glass on the table, she curtseyed elegantly to the company, and wishing them all good-night retired.
Loud applause followed this flying visit of Helen to their orgie, and they would have recalled her; but a glance from Mr. Oldstone kept them in check. At midnight the party broke up, and each returned to his bed comfortable, without having indulged to excess, and even Mr. Oldstone walked bravely off to his bed unassisted.
CHAPTER XII.
A week had passed since our last chapter. Our antiquary, finding himself once more alone, had brought out his writing materials, determined no longer to put off his much-delayed letter to his friend, when a smart tap at the door, and immediately afterwards the entry of our host's pretty daughter, caused him to look up. She appeared more radiant than ever, and held up a bulky epistle with a foreign post mark. Full well she knew the handwriting. It was addressed to Mr. Oldstone, as usual, so she placed it in his hands.
"At last!" exclaimed the antiquary. "Now we shall see for ourselves. Sit down, my girl, sit down."
The invitation had been hardly given when the daughter of our host had already seated herself, and leaning her elbow on the table and her head in her hand, looked all attention.
Oldstone broke the seal, put on his spectacles, and thus began:—