"Why, Charlie, boy," he exclaimed, as the lithe little fellow sprang into his arms, "I didn't expect you; I thought you weren't coming till Monday."
"No, I wasn't; but father saw by the paper that the ship was in, and I told Aunt Ellen I couldn't stay any longer."
"You've grown a head taller since I saw you."
"I should think I'd had time enough to grow; how long have you been gone?"
"Fourteen months; but let's go down and see father."
"But, George," said the little boy, looking round the room, "do let me come back and chum with you now. I've slept with Robert ever since you went away, and I like it very well with Robert, but I'd rather come back to you, mayn't I?"
"Certainly you shall, if mother and Robert agree to it." And Charlie made one leap to the first landing, another to the second, and with a third bound reached his father's door.
A gay party assembled at dinner. Mother came down for the first time, to honor her boy's return. Mr. Hartland said a long, earnest grace, thanking God for the bounties spread before them less than for the return of the long-absent, and for their joyful reunion. The girls were looking their prettiest, the boys full of glee. All being more talkative than hungry, they discussed home affairs, family affairs, the voyage, the tropics, and Valparaiso, until Charlie, tired of his chair, pushed it back, and began turning summersets over the floor, by way of digesting his dinner.
A general move followed; father and George exchanged a few sentences on business matters in a low voice to which nobody listened, and the young man left the room. Presently he returned with a bulky envelope, which he gave his father, saying: