“Dear old darling Charley!” returned Edwin, in his cordial manner, “consider!  When you were going on so happily with Angela, why should I compromise you with the old gentleman by making you a party to our engagement, and (after he had declined my proposals) to our secret intention?  Surely it was better that you should be able honourably to say, ’He never took counsel with me, never told me, never breathed a word of it.’  If Angela suspected it, and showed me all the favour and support she could—­God bless her for a precious creature and a priceless wife!—­I couldn’t help that.  Neither I nor Emmeline ever told her, any more than we told you.  And for the same good reason, Charley; trust me, for the same good reason, and no other upon earth!”

Emmeline was Angela’s cousin.  Lived with her.  Had been brought up with her.  Was her father’s ward.  Had property.

“Emmeline is in the chaise, my dear Edwin!” said I, embracing him with the greatest affection.

“My good fellow!” said he, “do you suppose I should be going to Gretna Green without her?”

I ran out with Edwin, I opened the chaise door, I took Emmeline in my arms, I folded her to my heart.  She was wrapped in soft white fur, like the snowy landscape:  but was warm, and young, and lovely.  I put their leaders to with my own hands, I gave the boys a five-pound note apiece, I cheered them as they drove away, I drove the other way myself as hard as I could pelt.

I never went to Liverpool, I never went to America, I went straight back to London, and I married Angela.  I have never until this time, even to her, disclosed the secret of my character, and the mistrust and the mistaken journey into which it led me.  When she, and they, and our eight children and their seven—­I mean Edwin and Emmeline’s, whose oldest girl is old enough now to wear white for herself, and to look very like her mother in it—­come to read these pages, as of course they will, I shall hardly fail to be found out at last.  Never mind!  I can bear it.  I began at the Holly-Tree, by idle accident, to associate the Christmas time of year with human interest, and with some inquiry into, and some care for, the lives of those by whom I find myself surrounded.  I hope that I am none the worse for it, and that no one near me or afar off is the worse for it.  And I say, May the green Holly-Tree flourish, striking its roots deep into our English ground, and having its germinating qualities carried by the birds of Heaven all over the world!