Mr. Frazer had been given a small living, whether by the deserved kindness of fortune, or by reason of his own efforts, or the Polkingtons, is not known.  Anyhow he had it, and he and Violet were married in June with all necessary eclat.  Local papers described the event in glowing terms, appreciative friends said it was the prettiest wedding in years, and in due time Cherie wrote and told Julia about it.  The Captain also wrote; his point of view was rather different, but his letter filled up gaps in Cherie’s information, and Julia’s own past experience filled up the remaining gaps in both.

The letters came on Tuesday, as Julia expected, a little before dinner time; she was still reading them when Mijnheer and his son came in from the office.  Joost smiled sympathetically when he saw she had them, glad on her account; and she, almost unconsciously, crumpled together the sheets that lay on the table beside her, as if she were afraid they would betray their contents to him.

“You have good news from home?” said Mijnheer; “your parents are well?”

“Quite well, thank you,” Julia answered.  She had just come to the place in her father’s letter where he regretted that such very light refreshments were the fashion at wedding receptions.  “It is, of course, as your mother says, less expensive, but at such a time who would spare expense—­if it were the fashion?  I assure you I had literally nothing to eat at the time, or afterwards; your mother thinking it advisable as soon as we were alone, to put away the cakes for future visitors.  At such a time, when a man’s feelings are nearly touched, he needs support; I did not have it, and I cannot say that I have felt myself since.”

Julia read to the end of the letter; Mijnheer had by this time taken up a paper, but Joost watched her as she folded the sheets.  He did not speak, it seemed he would not intrude upon her; there was something dog-like in this sympathy with what was not understood.  She felt vaguely uncomfortable by reason of it, and spoke to break the spell.  “Everything went off very well,” she said.

The words were for him alone, since Mijnheer was now reading, and also knew nothing of the subject.  The smile brightened on his face.  “Did it?” he answered.  “I am very glad.  They must have missed you much, and thought often of you.”

Julia nodded.  Cherie had said.  “I must say I think it is a pity you were not here; it is important to have some one with a head in the background; mother and I had to be the fore, so of course we could not do it; if you had been here several things would have gone better, and some waste have been saved.”