"And that is all we do mean when we talk about that of which we can know nothing," said the Doctor, less gallantly than usual, for he resented that epithet of "old-fashioned," as applied to the watch. Leonard, we see, had been silent all this time; he could not speak--literally and truly, he could not speak. How he got out of his embarrassment, and how he got out of the room, he never explained to my satisfaction. But, a few minutes afterward, he was seen hurrying down the road very briskly. Riccabocca and his wife stood at the window gazing after him. "There is a depth in that boy's heart," said the sage, "which might float an argosy." "Poor dear boy! I think we have put every thing into the knapsack that he can possibly want," said good Mrs. Riccabocca musingly. The DOCTOR (continuing his soliloquy.)--"They are strong, but they are not immediately apparent." Mrs. RICCABOCCA (resuming hers.)--"They are at the bottom of the knapsack." The DOCTOR.--"They will stand long wear and tear." Mrs. RICCABOCCA.--"A year, at least, with proper care at the wash." The DOCTOR (startled.)--"Care at the wash! What on earth are you talking of, ma'am!" Mrs. RICCABOCCA (mildly.)--"The shirts to be sure, my love! And you?" The DOCTOR (with a heavy sigh.)--"The feelings, ma'am!" Then, after a pause, taking his wife's hand affectionately--"But you did quite right to think of the shirts; Mr. Dale said very truly--" Mrs. RICCABOCCA.--"What?" The DOCTOR.--"That there was a great deal in common between us--even when I think of feelings, and you but of--shirts." CHAPTER XXIII. Mr. and Mrs. Avenel sat within the parlor--Mr. Richard stood on the hearth-rug, whistling Yankee Doodle. "The Parson writes word that the lad will come to-day," said Richard suddenly--"let me see the letter--ay, to day. If he took the coach as far as ----, he might walk the rest of the way in two or three hours. He should be pretty nearly here. I have a great mind to go and meet him: it will save his asking questions, and hearing about me. I can clear the town by the back way, and get out at the high road." "You'll not know him from any one else," said Mrs. Avenel. "Well, that is a good one! Not know an Avenel! We've all the same cut of the jib--have not we, father?" Poor John laughed heartily, till the tears rolled down his cheeks. "We were always a well-favored fam'ly," said John, recomposing himself. "There was Luke, but he's gone; and Harry, but he's dead too, and Dick, but he's in Amerikay--no, he's here; and my darling Nora, but--" "Hush!" interrupted Mrs. Avenel; "hush, John!" The old man stared at her, and then put his tremulous hand to his brow. "And Nora's gone too!" said he, in a voice of profound woe. Both hands then fell on his knees, and his head drooped on his breast. Mrs. Avenel rose, kissed her husband on the forehead, and walked away to the window. Richard took up his hat, and brushed the nap carefully with his handkerchief; but his lips quivered.