“I should like just to run down and see the fun,” said Uncle Geoffrey, thus setting all parties at rest for the moment. The two girls ran joyfully up to put on their bonnets, as Henrietta wished to see, Beatrice to join in, the sport. At that instant Mrs. Langford asked her son Geoffrey to remove some obstacle which hindered the comfortable shutting of the door, and though a servant might just as well have done it, he readily complied, according to his constant habit of making all else give way to her, replying to the discomfited looks of the boys, “I shall be ready by the time the young ladies come down.” So he was, long before Henrietta was ready, and just as she and Beatrice appeared on the stairs, Atkins was carrying across the hall what the boys looked at with glances of dismay, namely, the post-bag. Knight Sutton, being small and remote, did not possess a post-office, but a messenger came from Allonfield for the letters on every day except Sunday, and returned again in the space of an hour. A very inconvenient arrangement, as everyone had said for the last twenty years, and might probably say for twenty years more. As usual, more than half the contents were for G. Langford, Esq., and Fred’s face grew longer and longer as he saw the closely-written business-like sheets. “Fred, my poor fellow,” said his uncle, looking up, “I am sorry for you, but one or two must be answered by this day’s post. I will not be longer than I can help.” “Then do let us come on,” exclaimed the chorus. “Come, Queenie,” added Alex. She delayed, however, saying, “Can I do any good, papa?” “Thank you, let me see. I do not like to stop you, but it would save time if you could just copy a letter.” “O thank you, pray let me,” said Beatrice, delighted. “Go on, Henrietta, I shall soon come.” Henrietta would have waited, but she saw a chance of speaking to her brother, which she did not like to lose. Her mother had taken advantage of the various conversations going on in the hall, to draw her son aside, saying, “Freddy, I believe you think me very troublesome, but do let me entreat of you not to venture on the ice till one of your uncles has said it is safe.” “Uncle Roger trusts Alex,” said Fred. “Yes, but he lets all those boys take their chance, and a number of you together are likely to be careless, and I know there used to be dangerous places in that pond. I will not detain you, my dear,” added she, as the others were preparing to start, “only I beg you will not attempt to skate till your uncle comes.”