Lydia thought she did, but she was not quite sure; and as we cannot wait to hear the thrilling conversation that followed, we will steal up stairs again, to hear the pleasant "good-night" often repeated while Uncle, at the study door, waves his hand blithely to the pretty procession of two mounting to the sleeping-room above.
Later, while the girls are whispering together in Dorry's cosey corner, Mr. Reed writes the long letter to Eben Slade, which tells him that he may now come on with "legal actions" and his threats of exposure; that Mr. George is ready to meet him in any court of law, and that his proofs are ready. Then at the last follows a magnanimous offer of help, which the baffled man will be glad to accept as he sneaks away to his Western home—there to lead, let us hope, a less unworthy life than of old.
The letter is sealed. Now the lights are out. Mr. Jack, tranquil and happy, having at last made Lydia "take the idee" to his satisfaction, has tip-toed his way to his bachelor room above the stable, and Watch settles himself upon the wide piazza to spend the pleasant midsummer night out of doors.
Sleep well, good old Watch! To-morrow will be a busy day for you. Very early, a trim young man will come with a message from the telegraph office, and you will have to bark and howl as he approaches, and slowly subside when Dorothy rushes down to receive the telegram, which tells of a certain ship being sighted at daylight off Sandy Hook. Then affairs at the stable will occupy you. Jack, getting out the carriage in a hurry, never heeding your growls and caresses, will drive to the house, and (while you are wildly threading your way between wheels and the horses' legs) Uncle George, Josie, and Dorothy, radiant with expectation, will enter the vehicle, Jack will mount to the box, and off they will start for the railway station!
Lydia—happy soul!—will call "Come back, Watch!" and then, resting on the piazza again, you may amuse yourself with the flies that try to settle on your nose, or dream of a wild race with your young master, while she makes the house fairly shine for the welcoming that is soon to be.
. . . Wake up, old Watch! "To-morrow" is here. Even now Uncle George, Josie, and Dorothy are on the Express-train for New York. It shakes and trembles with excess of speed, yet it is all too slow to satisfy the happy three who are going at last to see their ship come in.
Lydia Blum, are you aware that this is the twentieth time that you have "just run up and put the finishin' touch to Mr. Donald's room"? Ah, how pleased he will be when he learns that, after your wedding, you and Jack are to continue living on the place just the same, excepting that you are to have a little cottage of your own!