“J.G.J.  Tracy, General H.E.I.C.S.

“P.S.1.—­Remember me to our boy, or boys—­which is it?

“P.S.2.—­I bring with me the daughter of a friend in India, who is come over for a year or two’s polish at a first-rate school.  Of course you will be glad to receive her as our guest.

“J.G.J.T.”

This loving letter was the most startling event that had ever attempted to unnerve Mrs. Tracy; and she accordingly managed, for effect and propriety’s sake, to grow very faint upon the spot, whether for joy, or sorrow, or fear of lost liberty, or hope of a restored lord, doth not appear; she had so long been satisfied with receiving quarterly pay from the India agents, that she forgot it was an evidence of her husband’s existence; and, lo! here he was returning a general, doubtlessly a magnificent moustachioed individual, and she was to be Mrs. General! so that when she came completely to herself, after that feint of a faint, she was thinking of nothing but court-plumes, oriental pearls, and her gallant Tracy’s uniform.

The postscripts also had their influence:  Charles, naturally affectionate, and willing to love a hitherto unseen father, felt hurt, as well he might, at the “boy, or boys;” while Julian, who ridiculed his brother’s sentimentality, was already fancying that the “daughter of a friend” might be a pleasant addition to the dullness of Burleigh-Singleton.

Preparations vast were made at once for the general’s reception; from attic to kitchen was sounded the tocsin of his coming.  Julian was all bustle and excitement, to his mother’s joy and pride; while Charles merited her wrath by too much of his habitual and paternal quietude, particularly when he withdrew his forces altogether from the loud domestic fray, by retreating up-stairs to cogitate and muse, perhaps to make a calming prayer or two about all these matters of importance.  As for Mrs. Tracy herself, she was even now, within the first hour of that news, busily engaged in collecting cosmetics, trinkets, blonde lace, and other female finery, resolved to trick herself out like Jezebel, and win her lord once more; whilst the pernicious old aunt, who still lived on, notwithstanding all those twenty years of patience, as vivacious as before, grumbled and scolded so much at this upsetting of her house, that there was really some risk of her altering the will at last, and cutting out Jane Tracy after all.

And the morrow morning came, as if it were no more than an ordinary Friday, and with it came expectancy; and noon succeeded, and with it spirits alternately elated and depressed; and evening drew in, with heart-sickness and chagrin at hopes or prophecies deferred; and night, and next morning, and still the general came not.  So, much weeping at that vexing disappointment, after so many pains to please, Mrs. Tracy put aside her numerous aids and appliances, and lay slatternly a-bed, to nurse a head-ache until noon; and all had well nigh forgotten the probable arrival, when, to every body’s dismay, a dusty chaise and four suddenly rattled up the terrace, and stopped at our identical number seven.