'Richard? That's right! Here's a tea-cup waiting for you, ' as the almost thirty-year-old Incumbent of Cocksmoor, still looking like a young deacon, entered the room with his quiet step, and silent greeting to its four inmates. 'Thank you, Ethel. Is papa gone out?' 'I have not seen him since dinner-time. You said he was gone out with Dr. Spencer, Aubrey?' 'Yes, I heard Dr. Spencer's voice-"I say, Dick"-like three notes of consternation, ' said Aubrey; 'and off they went. I fancy there's some illness about in the Lower Pond Buildings, that Dr. Spencer has been raging so long to get drained.' 'The knell has been ringing for a little child there, ' added Mary; 'scarlatina, I believe-' 'But, Richard, ' burst forth the merry voice of the youngest, 'you must see our letters from Edinburgh.' 'You have heard, then? It was the very thing I came to ask.' 'Oh yes! there were five notes in one cover, ' said Gertrude. 'Papa says they are to be laid up in the family archives, and labelled "The Infants' Honeymoon."' 'Papa is very happy with his own share, ' said Ethel. 'It was signed, "Still his own White Flower," and it had two Calton Hill real daisies in it. I don't know when I have seen him more pleased.' 'And Hector's letter-I can say that by heart, ' continued Gertrude. '"My dear Father, This is only to say that she is the darlint, and for the pleasure of subscribing myself-Your loving SON,"-the son as big as all the rest put together.' 'I tell Blanche that he only took her for the pleasure of being my father's son, ' said Aubrey, in his low lazy voice. 'Well, ' said Mary, 'even to the last, I do believe he had as soon drive papa out as walk with Blanche. Flora was quite scandalized at it.' 'I should not imagine that George had often driven my father out, ' said Aubrey, again looking lazily up from balancing his spoon. Ethel laughed; and even Richard smiled; then recovering herself, she said, 'Poor Hector, he never could call himself son to any one before.' 'He has not been much otherwise here, ' said Richard. 'No, ' said Ethel; 'it is the peculiar hardship of our weddings to break us up by pairs, and carry off two instead of one. Did you ever see me with so shabby a row of tea-cups? When shall I have them come in riding double again?' The recent wedding was the third in the family; the first after a five years' respite. It ensued upon an attachment that had grown up with the young people, so that they had been entirely one with each other; and there had been little of formal demand either of the maiden's affection or her father's consent; but both had been implied from the first.