In the fragrant Levant morocco case, where these happy jewels lived when they were at home, Van Twiller thoughtfully placed his card, on the back of which he had written a line begging Mademoiselle Olympe Zabriski to accept the accompanying trifle from one who had witnessed her graceful performances with interest and pleasure.  This was not done inconsiderately.  “Of course, I must inclose my card, as I would to any lady,” Van Twiller had said to himself.  “A Van Twiller can neither write an anonymous letter nor make an anonymous present.”  Blood entails its duties as well as its privileges.

The casket despatched to its destination, Van Twiller felt easier in his mind.  He was under obligations to the girl for many an agreeable hour that might otherwise have passed heavily.  He had paid the debt, and he had paid it en prince, as became a Van Twiller.  He spent the rest of the day in looking at some pictures at Goupil’s, and at the club, and in making a few purchases for his trip up the Hudson.  A consciousness that this trip up the Hudson was a disorderly retreat came over him unpleasantly at intervals.

When he returned to his rooms late at night, he found a note lying on
the writing-table.  He started as his eyes caught the words “------
Theatre” stamped in carmine letters on one corner of the envelope.  Van
Twiller broke the seal with trembling fingers.

Now, this note some time afterward fell into the hands of Livingstone, who showed it to Stuyvesant, who showed it to Delaney, who showed it to me, and I copied it as a literary curiosity.  The note ran as follows: 

MR VAN TWILLER DEAR SIR—­i am verry greatfull to you for that Bracelett. it come just in the nic of time for me.  The Mademoiselle Zabriski dodg is about Plaid out. my beard is getting to much for me. i shall have to grow a mustash and take to some other line of busyness, i dont no what now, but will let you no.  You wont feel bad if i sell that Bracelett. i have seen Abrahams Moss and he says he will do the square thing.  Pleas accep my thanks for youre Beautifull and Unexpected present.  Youre respectfull servent, CHARLES MONTMORENCI WALTERS.

The next day Van Twiller neither expressed nor felt any unwillingness to spend a few weeks with his mother at the old homestead.

And then he went abroad.

BROTHER SEBASTIAN’S FRIENDSHIP
------------------------------
BY HAROLD FREDERIC

Harold Frederic (born at Utica, N. Y., August 19, 1856; died in 1898) was a novelist whose every book exceeded its predecessor in conception, general construction, and technique of detail.  His death at the maturity of his powers was therefore a great loss to American literature.  His posthumous novel, “The Market Place” indicates that Frederic, had he lived, might have outshone even Balzac in the fiction of business life.  “Brother Sebastian’s Friendship” is a clever short story of the days of his literary ’prenticeship.  It was his introduction to the “Utica Observer,” where he worked for several years.