“And did he find his land?  Tracts of thousands and tens of thousands, are sometimes not to be discovered.”

“We saw him twice, going and returning, and he was successful.  The last time, he was detained by a snow-storm, and staid with us some days—­so long, indeed, that he remained, and accompanied us out, when we went below.  We saw much of him, too, last winter, in town.”

“Maud, you wrote me nothing of all this!  Are visiters of this sort so very common that you do not speak of them in your letters?”

“Did I not?—­Beulah will scarce pardon me for that.  She thinks Mr. Evert Beekman more worthy of a place in a letter, than I do, perhaps.”

“I think him a very respectable and sensible young man,” answered Beulah quietly though there was a deeper tint on her cheek than common, which it was too dark to see.  “I am not certain, however, he need fill much space in the letters of either of your sisters.’

“Well, this is something gleaned!” said the major, laughing—­“and now, Beulah, if you will only let out a secret of the same sort about Maud, I shall be au fait of all the family mysteries.”

“All!” repeated Maud, quickly—­“would there be nothing to tell of a certain major Willoughby, brother of mine?”

“Not a syllable.  I am as heart-whole as a sound oak, and hope to remain so.  At all events, all I love is in this house.  To tell you the truth, girls, these are not times for a soldier to think of anything but his duty.  The quarrel is getting to be serious between the mother country and her colonies.”

“Not so serious, brother,” observed Beulah, earnestly, “as to amount to that.  Evert Beekman thinks there will be trouble, but he does not appear to fancy it will go as far as very serious violence.”

“Evert Beekman!—­most of that family are loyal, I believe; how is it with this Evert?”

“I dare say, you would call him a rebel,” answered Maud, laughing, for now Beulah chose to be silent, leaving her sister to explain, “He is not fiery; but he calls himself an American, with emphasis; and that is saying a good deal, when it means he is not an Englishman.  Pray what do you call yourself, Bob?”

“I!—­Certainly an American in one sense, but an Englishman in another.  An American, as my father was a Cumberland-man, and an Englishman as a subject, and as connected with the empire.”

“As St. Paul was a Roman.  Heigho!—­Well, I fear I have but one character—­or, if I have two, they are an American, and a New York girl.  Did I dress in scarlet, as you do, I might feel English too, possibly.”

“This is making a trifling misunderstanding too serious,” observed Beulah.  “Nothing can come of all the big words that have been used, than more big words.  I know that is Evert Beekman’s opinion.”

“I hope you may prove a true prophet,” answered the major, once more buried in thought.  “This place does seem to be fearfully retired for a family like ours.  I hope my father may be persuaded to pass more of his time in New York.  Does he ever speak on the subject, girls, or appear to have any uneasiness?”