Georgiella came to the Christmas dinner with blazing eyes. She ate in silence, looking like an offended goddess, dressed in an old black silk gown of her mother's trimmed with aged Valenciennes lace. But after dinner she stayed in the dining-room while Mrs. McCorkle and Aunt Betsey went into the kitchen. She walked up to the Ming vase and stood before it. Ellesworth followed her. "I have been thinking it over," she began abruptly in a quaint affectation of a business-like tone. "I will keep the mortgage--thank you, sir. It _is_ my home, you know," she put in pugnaciously. "But I will pay for it, if you please." "_Pay for it!_" gasped Ellesworth. "Yes, sir; I will sell you the Ming vase," returned Miss Benson calmly, "and the two Revolutionary papers, and the coin of George the Second and the rest--" She waved her hand toward the glass-case. "You may take them to Boston with you." These were her assets. Ellesworth looked at her for a moment, torn between astonishment, pity, amusement and love; but love got the better of them all, and he answered solemnly,-- "Yes, I will take the Ming vase, and the Revolutionary papers, and the old coins and you too, my darling!" "Well, I _do_ like you," admitted Georgiella. Suddenly she began to droop and tremble, and then to sob. Then he held her. "You must give me a first mortgage; you must," demanded the young man. "I must have everything--the whole--no other claims to come in from any quarter of the universe. You understand. You've _got_ to be my wife!" he exploded in a kind of glorious anger. She could not deny him, for she thought it was the Northern way of wooing, and smiled divinely. "And now--may I?" He took the mistletoe branch from the Ming vase and held it over her head. Their eyes closed in ecstacy. Mrs. McCorkle gave a funny little feminine scream of dismay. She had heard no sound, and had come in from the kitchen to see if they were quarreling. "And I'll put it in the trust deed," he whispered humbly, "that I will make you happy, dear!" When Ellesworth rode over to Sunshine for his next mail he found the following letter awaiting him: 1111 COURT STREET, BOSTON, MASS., _Dec._ 22, 1890. _Mr. Francis B. Ellesworth:_ DEAR FRANK,--What the deuce do you mean by countermanding Benson's foreclosure at this time of day? It makes a peck of trouble. In Boston we are too busy to fool with affairs this way. Messrs. Screw & Claw desire me to enclose their little bill. Mine will keep until you get here. Yours truly, JOSEPH TODD. COLONEL ODMINTON A SEQUEL TO "A REPUBLIC WITHOUT A PRESIDENT."