with which she often
read his thoughts and answered them, "even so. I do think myself very,
very fortunate! And why should I not? I have excellent health, capital
spirits, fair abilities, and, bating an occasional outbreak of anger, a
reasonably good temper. As regards personal traits, Mr. Annesley Beecher
once called me beautiful; Count Lienstahl would say something twice
as rapturous; at all events, quite good-looking enough not to raise
antipathies against me at first sight; and lastly, but worth all the
rest, I have an intense enjoyment in mere existence; the words 'I live'
are to me, 'I am happy.' The alternations of life, its little incidents
and adventures, its passing difficulties, are, like the changeful
aspects of the seasons, full of interest, full of suggestiveness,
calling out qualities of mind and resources of temperament that in
the cloudless skies of unbroken prosperity might have lain unused and
unknown. And now, sir, no more sneers at my fancied good fortune; for,
whatever _you_ may say, I feel it to be real."

There was that in her manner--a blended energy and grace--which went
far deeper into Beecher's heart than her mere words, and he gazed at
her slightly flushed cheek and flashing eyes with something very nearly
rapture; and he muttered to himself, "There she is, a half-bred 'un, and
no training, and able to beat them all!"

This time, at all events, she did not read his thoughts; as little,
perhaps, did she care to speculate about them. "By the by," said she,
suddenly approaching the chimney and taking up a letter, "this has
arrived here, by private hand, since you went out, and it has a
half-look of papa's writing, and is addressed to you."

Beecher took it eagerly. With a glance he recognized it as from Grog,
when that gentleman desired to disguise his hand.

"Am I correct?" asked she,--"am I correct in my guess?"

He was too deep in the letter to make her any reply. Its contents were
as follows:--

"Dear B.,--They 've kicked up such a row about that affair
at Brussels that I have been obliged to lie dark for the
last fortnight, and in a confoundedly stupid hole on the
right bank of the Rhine. I sent over Spicer to meet the
Baron, and take Klepper over to Nimroeguen and Magdeburg,
and some other small places in Prussia. They can pick up in
this way a few thousand florins, and keep the mill going. I
gave him strict orders not to see my daughter, who