The mother smiled, and patted the girl's head, and then returned to the other side of the table. Waters brought in some fruit, fresh from Covent Garden. He also brought in a letter, which he put beside his master's plate. Brand did not even look at it; he pushed it aside, to give him more room. But in pushing it aside he turned it somewhat and Natalie's eye happening to fall on the address, she perceived at once that it was in the handwriting of her father. "Dearest," said she, in a low voice, and rather breathlessly, "the letter is from papa." "From your father?" said he, without any great concern. Then he turned to Natalie's mother. "Will you excuse me? My friends are determined to remind me of their existence to-day." But this letter was much shorter than Calabressa's, though it was friendly enough. "My Dear Mr. Brand," it ran,--"I am glad to hear that you acted with so much promptitude that your preparations for departure are nearly complete. You are soldier-like. I have less scruples, therefore, in asking you to be so kind as to give me up to-morrow evening from half-past nine onward, for the consideration of a very serious order that has been transmitted to us from the Council. You will perceive that this claims precedence over any of our local arrangements; and as it may even involve the abandonment of your voyage to America, it will be advisable to give it immediate consideration. I trust the hour of half-past nine will not interfere with any engagement. "Your colleague and friend, Ferdinand Lind." This was all that an ordinary reader would have seen in the letter; but Brand observed also, down at the left-hand corner, a small mark in green color. That tiny arrow, with the two dots--the whole almost invisible--changed the letter from an invitation into a command. It signified "On business of the Council." He laid down the letter, and said lightly to Natalie, "Now I have some news for you. I may not have to go to America after all." "You are not going to America?" she said, in a bewildered way. "Oh, if it were possible--if it were possible!" she murmured, "I would say I was too happy. God is too good to me--to have them both given back to me in one day--both of them in one day--" "Natalie," said he, gently, "it is only a possibility, you know." "But it is possible!" she said; and there was a quick, strange, happy light in her face. "It _is_ possible, is it not?" Then she glanced at her mother; and her face, that had been somewhat pale, was pale no longer; the blood mounted to her forehead; her eyes were downcast. "It would please you, would it not?" she said, somewhat formally and in a low and timid voice. The mother, unobserved, smiled. "Oh yes," he said, cheerfully. "But even if I go to America, expect your mother and you to be arriving at Sandy Hook; and what then? In a couple of years--it is not a long time--I should have a small steamer there to meet you, and we could sail up the bay together."