without any remarkable occurrence to distinguish them, when an
event happened which personally affected me in a very serious
manner, and which suddenly caused our handsome Queen of Hearts to
become the object of my deepest anxiety in the present, and of my
dearest hopes for the future.

CHAPTER IV.

OUR GRAND PROJECT.

AT the end of the fifth week of our guest's stay, among the
letters which the morning's post brought to The Glen Tower there
was one for me, from my son George, in the Crimea.

The effect which this letter produced in our little circle
renders it necessary that I should present it here, to speak for
itself.

This is what I read alone in my own room:


"MY DEAREST FATHER--After the great public news of the fall of
Sebastopol, have you any ears left for small items of private
intelligence from insignificant subaltern officers? Prepare, if
you have, for a sudden and a startling announcement. How shall I
write the words? How shall I tell you that I am really coming
home?

"I have a private opportunity of sending this letter, and only a
short time to write it in; so I must put many things, if I can,