orning had been a very unpleasant one--neither frost nor snow, a sort
of compound of rain and sleet; but now the snow was falling fast, and
the clear crystals were fast hiding every shrub and plant that had a
place in the beautiful flower garden, in front of the drawing-room
windows of Arundel Manor, while inside a roaring fire, that made the
handsomely-furnished apartment look even more than usually snug and
comfortable, was surrounded by a family party consisting of Mrs. St.
Clair, the three children, and uncle Godfrey.

It was the "children's hour," and his niece was trying to coax a tale
out of "dear uncle," who did not seem much in the humor to comply with
her request, when mamma looked up and said, "My dear, do not trouble
your uncle so. I am sure, Godfrey, that Lydia must torment you; and if
she does, we must send her to the nursery."

Poor Lydia's face fell at once. "I am sure I did not mean to tease
uncle."

"Never mind, my pet; I know I promised to tell you a story to-night,
and was just thinking what it was to be, when my fit of musing sent
memory back many a long day, and revealed a scene distant many a
thousand miles. Now that I am fairly awake, I will show you the
picture of my waking dream. So up you jump;" and Lydia, catching hold
of his hand, was quickly seated on her uncle's knee, her usual place
at story time, and throwing her arms round his neck, exclaimed,--

"O, you dear old pet!"

"I heard," began uncle Godfrey, "some boys, who shall be nameless,
grumbling this morning at being kept inside, for fear of catching cold
on such a raw day, and my thoughts instantly turned to a day similar
to this, and how I then prayed to be under the shelter of some
friendly roof; and I also thought how thankful every one ought to be
who is able to sit at a warm fire, when it freezes hard, or when the
snow is covering the earth by inches every hour.

"I dare say you think it fine fun to run over to the lodge and bring
the letters from the post-boy; at least I did when as young as you
are; but going for letters is not always the pleasantest thing
imaginable, as I once nearly found out to my cost.

"If you are all so anxious to hear the contents of letters from your
uncle Wilfred, you may fancy how eagerly he and I used to watch for
the arrivals of the mails at Sydney, and be sure that one or both of
us were certain to be at the office in Kiandra on the day it reached
there, and with what delight we read and re-