Sir Stuart had scarcely moved during the reading of the letter. He had sat with his right hand covering his eyes, but yet evidently listening attentively to each word as it fell from the reader's lips. As Quincy folded up the letter and pa.s.sed it back to Linda, Sir Stuart arose and came forward to the front part of the room. Quincy took Linda's hand and led her towards Mr. Fernborough. Then he said, "Sir Stuart, I think this letter proves conclusively that this young lady's real name is Linda Fernborough Chessman. I knew personally Mr. Silas Putnam, mentioned in the letter, and scores of others can bear testimony that she has lived nearly all her life with this Silas Putnam, and has been known to all as his adopted daughter. There is no doubt but that the Linda Fernborough who was buried at sea was her mother. If you are satisfied that Mrs.

Charles Chessman was your daughter, it follows that this young lady must be your granddaughter."

"There is no doubt of it in my mind," said Sir Stuart, taking both of Linda's hands in his. "I live at Fernborough Hall, which is located in Heathfield, in the county of Suss.e.x. But, my dear, I did not know until to-day that my poor daughter had a child, and it will take me just a little time to get accustomed to the fact. Old men's brains do not act as quickly as my young friend's here." As he said this he looked towards Quincy. "But I am sure that we both of us owe to him a debt of grat.i.tude that it will be difficult for us ever to repay."

The old gentleman drew Linda towards him and folded her tenderly in his arms. "Come, rest here, my dear one," said he; "your doubts and hopes, your troubles and trials, and your wanderings are over." He kissed her on the forehead, and Linda put her arms about his neck and laid her head upon his breast.

"You are the only one united to me by near ties of blood in the world,"

Sir Stuart continued, and he laid his hand on Linda's head and turned her face towards him. "You have your mother's eyes," he said. "We will go back to England, and Fernborough Hall will have a mistress once more.

You are English born, and have a right to sit in that seat which might have been your mother's but for the pride and prejudice which thirty years ago ruled both your grandmother and myself."

Leaving them to talk over future plans, Quincy went back to the hotel and wrote two letters. The first was addressed to Lord Algernon Hastings in London. The other was a brief note to Aunt Ella, informing her that a party of four would start for Boston on the morning train and that she might expect them about four o'clock in the afternoon.

It lacked but five minutes of that hour when a carriage, containing the party from New York, stopped before the Mt. Vernon Street house. It suited Quincy's purpose that his companions should first meet his wife, although the fact that she was his wife was as yet unknown to them.

The meeting between Alice and Linda was friendly, but not effusive. They had been ordinary acquaintances in the old days at Eastborough, but now a mutual satisfaction and pleasure drew them more closely together.

"I have come," said Linda, "to thank you, Miss Pettengill, for your kindness and justice to me. Few women would have disregarded the solemn oath that Mrs. Putnam forced you to take, but by doing so you have given me a lawful name and a life of happiness for the future. May every blessing that Heaven can send to you be yours."

"All the credit should not be given to me," replied Alice. "The morning after Mrs. Putnam's death I was undecided in my mind which course to follow, whether to destroy the paper or to keep it. It was a few words from my Uncle Isaac that enabled me to decide the matter. He told me that a promise made to the dead should not be carried out if it interfered with the just rights of the living. So I decided to keep the paper, but how? It was then that Mr. Sawyer came to the rescue and pointed out to me the line of action, which I am truly happy to learn has ended so pleasantly."

"Grandpa and I have both thanked Mr. Sawyer so much," said Linda, "that he will not listen to us any more, but I will write to Uncle Ike, for I used to call him by that name, and show him that I am not ungrateful. I have lost all my politeness, I am so happy," continued Linda; "I believe you have met grandpa."

Sir Stuart came forward, and, in courtly but concise language, expressed his sincere appreciation of the kind service that Miss Pettengill had rendered his granddaughter.

Then Linda introduced Mdme. Archimbault as one who had been a true friend and almost a mother to her in the hours of her deepest sorrow and distress.

"Now, my friends," said Quincy, "I have a little surprise for you myself. I believe it my duty to state the situation frankly to you. My father is a very wealthy man--a millionaire. He is proud of his wealth and still more proud of the honored names of Quincy and Adams, which he conferred upon me. Like all such fathers and mothers, my parents have undoubtedly had bright dreams as to the future of their only son. One of their dreams has, no doubt, been my marriage to some young lady of honored name and great wealth. In such a matter, however, my own mind must decide. I have acted without their knowledge, as I resolved to deprive them of the pleasure of my wife's acquaintance until Christmas day."

Stepping up to Alice, Quincy took her hand and led her forward, facing their guests. "I take great pleasure, my friends, in introducing to you my wife, Mrs. Quincy Adams Sawyer."

There came an exclamation of pleased surprise from Linda, followed by congratulations from all, and while these were being extended, Aunt Ella entered the room. She advanced to meet Sir Stuart, who had been present at Alice's reception. Quincy introduced Mdme. Archimbault, and then Aunt Ella turned towards Linda. "This is the young lady, I believe," said she, "who has just found a long-lost relative, or rather, has been found by him. You must be very happy, my dear, and it makes me very happy to know that my nephew and niece, who are so dear to me, have been instrumental in bringing this pleasure to you. But have you been able to learn your mother's name? Quincy did not mention that in his letter."

"Yes," said Quincy, stepping forward, "the letter contained that information, but I thought I would rather tell you about it than write it. My dear aunt, allow me to introduce to you Miss Linda Fernborough Chessman."

"What!" cried Aunt Ella, starting back in astonishment.

"Listen to me, Aunt Ella;" and taking her hand in his he drew her towards him. "Your husband had a brother, Charles Chessman; he was an artist and lived in England; while there he married; he wrote your husband some thirty years ago that he was going to return to America, but Uncle Robert, you told me, never heard from him again after receiving the letter."

"Yes, yes!" a.s.sented Aunt Ella; "I have the letter. But what is the mystery, Quincy? You know I can bear anything but suspense."

"There is no mystery, auntie, now; it is all cleared up. Uncle Robert's brother Charles married Linda Fernborough, Sir Stuart's daughter. The vessel in which father, mother, and child sailed for America was wrecked. Father and mother were lost, but the child was rescued. This is the child. Aunt Ella, Linda Chessman is your niece, but unfortunately I am unable to call her cousin."

Aunt Ella embraced Linda and talked to her as a mother might talk to her daughter. Her delight at finding this relative of the husband whom she had loved so well and mourned so sincerely, showed itself in face, and voice, and action. Her hospitality knew no bounds. Linda must stay with her a month at least, so must Sir Stuart and Mdme. Archimbault. It was the holiday season, and they must all feast and be merry over this happy, unexpected return.

It was a joyous party that gathered in the dining-room at Aunt Ella's house that evening. She said that such an occasion could not be fitly celebrated with plain cold water, so a battle of choke old port was served to Sir Stuart, and toasts to Mrs. Sawyer and Miss Chessman were drunk from gla.s.ses filled with foaming champagne.

Then all adjourned to Aunt Ella's room and Uncle Robert's prime cigars were offered to Sir Stuart and Quincy. But Aunt Ella had too much to say to think of her cigarette. For an hour conversation was general; everybody took part in it. The events of the past year, which were of so great interest to all present, were gone over, and when conversation lagged it was because everybody knew everything that everybody else knew.

Quincy spent that night at his father's house. The next morning his mother told him that the author had selected Christmas day on which to be received by them at dinner, and that she was making unusual preparations for that event.

"I wish I could invite a few friends to meet her that day," said Quincy.

"You may invite as many as you choose, Quincy, if you will promise to be here yourself. You have been away from home so much the past year I hardly antic.i.p.ate the pleasure of your company on that day."

"Have no fear, mother," Quincy said. "I wish very much to meet the author that father and you are so greatly pleased with. Of course Aunt Ella is coming?"

"Certainly," answered his mother. "I understand that the author has been stopping with her since the reception."

"I shall invite five friends," said Quincy, "and you may depend upon me."

To his mother's surprise he gave her a slight embrace, a light kiss upon her cheek, and was gone.

The sun showed its cheerful face on Christmas morning. The snow that fell a fortnight previous had been washed away by continued heavy rains.

A cold wind, biting, but healthful, quickened the pulse and brought roses to the cheeks of holiday pedestrians.

The programme for the meals on Christmas day had been arranged by Mrs.

Sawyer as follows: Breakfast at nine, dinner at one, and a light supper at six. It had always been the rule in the Sawyer family to exchange Christmas gifts at the breakfast hour. Quincy was present, and his father, mother, and sisters thanked him for the valuable presents that bore his card. Father, mother, and sisters, on their part, had not forgotten Quincy, and the reunited family had the most enjoyable time that they had experienced for a year.

As Quincy rose to leave the table, he said to his mother, "I have another gift for father and you, but it has not yet arrived. I am going to see about it this morning."

"You will be sure to come to dinner, Quincy," fell from his mother's lips.

"I promise you, mother," he replied. "I would not miss it for anything."

A little after noontime, the Chessman carriage arrived at the Beacon Street mansion of the Hon. Nathaniel Adams Sawyer, and a moment later Mrs. Ella Chessman and the young author, Bruce Douglas, were ushered into the s.p.a.cious and elegant parlor. They were received by Mr. and Mrs.

Sawyer and their daughter Florence.

Twenty minutes later a carriage arrived before the same mansion. Its occupants were Sir Stuart Fernborough, his granddaughter, and Mdme.

Archimbault. A few minutes later Mr. and Mrs. Leopold Ernst appeared, having walked the short distance from their rooms on Chestnut Street.

The new arrivals were presented to Mr. and Mrs. Sawyer by Mrs. Chessman, and a pleasant ante-prandial conversation was soon under way.

From behind the curtains of a second-story window of the mansion, a young miss had watched the arrival and departure of the carriages. As the second one drove away she exclaimed, "Oh! what a lark! Those last folks came in Aunt Ella's carriage, too. I bet Quincy and auntie have put up some sort of a game on pa and ma. I won't go down stairs till Quincy comes, for I want to give my new sister a hug and a squeeze and a kiss, and I sha'n't dare to do it till Quincy has introduced her to pa and ma."

At that moment the young man, faultlessly attired, came down stairs from the third story, and Maude sprang out from her doorway on the second floor and said in a whisper, "How long have you been home, Quincy?"

"I came in about half-past eleven," he replied.

"Oh, you rogue," cried Maude. "I have been watching out the window for an hour. I see it all now, you don't mean to give pa and ma a chance to say boo until after dinner. Let me go down first, Quincy."

Maude went down stairs and was duly presented to the a.s.sembled guests as the youngest scion of the house of Sawyer.

At exactly five minutes of one Quincy entered the parlor through the rear door. Aunt Ella and Alice were seated side by side between the two front windows. As Quincy advanced he exchanged the compliments of the season with the guests. Finally the Hon. Nathaniel and his son Quincy stood facing Aunt Ella and Alice.

"Quincy," said his father, in slow, measured tones, "it gives me great pleasure to present you to the, celebrated young author, Bruce Douglas."

Quincy bent low, and Alice inclined her head in acknowledgment. He reached forward, clasped her hand in his and took his place by her side. "Father, mother, and sisters," he cried, and there was a proud tone in his clear, ringing voice, "there is still another presentation to be made--that Christmas gift of which I spoke this morning at breakfast. You see I hold this lady by the hand, which proves that we are friends and not strangers. To her friends in the town of Eastborough, where she was born, the daughter of an honest farmer, who made a frugal living and no more, she was known by the name of Mary Alice Pettengill. To the story and book-reading public of the United States, she is known as Bruce Douglas, but to me she is known by the sacred name of wife. I present to you as a Christmas gift, a daughter and a sister."

There was a moment of suspense, and all eyes were fixed upon the parents so dramatically apprised of their son's marriage. The Hon. Nathaniel cleared his throat, and advancing slowly, took Alice's hand in his and said, "It gives me great pleasure to welcome as a daughter one so highly favored by nature with intellectual powers and such marked endowments for a famous literary career. I am confident that the reputation of our family will gain rather than lose by such an alliance."