When Magnus returned to the family room he found the tea things had been already washed up and put away, the hearth swept, the fire replenished, and the two ladies with their needlework, and Hugh with his books, all gathered around the table that was lighted by but one tallow candle. He drew a chair up with the rest, and, putting his hand in his pocket, said: “I have got a letter from Huttontown.” “A letter from Huttontown!” exclaimed all three, looking eagerly up. “Yes, from Mr. Wilson.” “What’s the news? How is father?” asked Elsie. “Does he speak of the general? How is he?” inquired Alice anxiously. “How are all the folks? How is Aunt Joe and Nettie?” asked Hugh Hutton. All were speaking together, and all eagerly awaiting an answer. “Peste! ladies and young gentleman, I cannot answer all at once,” said Magnus, smiling, yet with something constrained in his manner. “I will read the letter; it is very short; a mere note—a mere matter of business.” “Well?” said Alice, seeing him pause. “A mere announcement, in truth—a—but I will read it. Hugh, you’re discreet?” “Yes, sir.” “Elsie, my dear, I have been anxious to submit this letter to your mother and yourself all the evening.” “Well, well, Magnus. My mother is on thorns, and I am scarcely more at ease. Has anything happened? You look ‘perplexed, yet not in despair’—not like the recipient of very ill news.” “Why, no, not of ill news, yet strange news. You know before I came away from Huttontown the last time I requested the Rev. Mr. Wilson to inform me immediately by letter of anything important that might occur at Mount Calm, and concern us.” “Yes, yes. Well?” “He has done so. Here is his letter—listen.” “HUTTONTOWN, January, 18—. “DEAR DR. HARDCASTLE: At our last interview you desired me, in the event of General Garnet’s contemplating any second matrimonial engagement, to inform you, by letter, without delay, saying that it vitally concerned the welfare of all parties that this should instantly be done. Without having the most remote idea of the cause of your very emphatic instructions, I hasten to obey them, by advising you that General Garnet and Miss Wylie of Point Pleasant are to be married on Tuesday next. Nothing is talked of but the match and the great preparations making for the wedding at Point Pleasant, and for the reception of the bride at Mount Calm. The family of the lady seem very well pleased with the match. Ulysses Roebuck, the jilted lover, has gone—sailed for Europe, with the purpose of making the grand tour. “There, you have the facts that most interest you. There is nothing else stirring; all the same dull, dead level; a birth, death, or marriage would be an historical event in this village.