e could not help feeling
that the evergreens for the feast might, after all, be the evergreens
for the funeral.

One snowy day between Christmas and New Year, Julius came home. Before
he said a word to Sophia, she divined that he had succeeded in his
object. He entered the house with the air of a master; and, when he
heard how rapidly the squire was failing, he congratulated himself on
his prudent alacrity in the matter. The next morning he was permitted an
interview. "You have been a long time away, Julius," said the squire
languidly, and without apparent interest in the subject.

"I have been a long journey."

"Ah! Where have you been? Eh?"

"To Italy."

The sick man flushed crimson, and his large, thin hands quivered
slightly. Julius noted the change in him with some alarm; for, though it
was not perhaps actually necessary to have the squire's signature to
Harry's relinquishment, it would be more satisfactory to obtain it. He
knew that neither Mrs. Sandal nor Charlotte would dispute Harry's deed;
but he wished not only to possess Seat-Sandal, but also the good-will
of the neighborhood, and for this purpose he must show a clear, clean
right to the succession. He had explained the matter to Sophia, and been
annoyed at her want of enthusiasm. She feared that any discussion
relating to Harry might seriously excite and injure her father, and she
could not bring herself to advise it. But the disapproval only made
Julius more determined to carry out his own views; and therefore, when
the squire asked, "Where have you been?" he told him the truth; and oh,
how cruel the truth can sometimes be!

"I have been to Italy."

"To see"--

"Harry? Yes."

Then, without waiting to inform himself as to whether the squire wished
the conversation dropped or continued, he added, "He was in a miserable
condition,--destitute, with a dying wife and child."

"Child! Eh? What?"

"Yes, a son; a little chap, nothing but skin and bone and black
eyes,--an Italian Sandal."

The squire was silent a few minutes; then he asked in a slow,
constrained voice, "What did you do?"

"Harry sent for me in order that we might discuss a certain proposal he
wished to make me. I have accepted it--reluctantly accepted it; but
really it appeared the only way to help him to any purpose."

"What did Harry want? Eh? What?"

"He wanted to go to America, and begin a new life, and found a new house
there; and, as he had determined never under any circu