The gentlemen dined out, but joined us at an early tea. Nothing was said of the event of the morning, until, as we arose from the table, little Phlit sidled up to his master, and asked for the keys so that he might make fires in the bedrooms, "for de ladies an' gemlen to dress for ebenin.'" "The deuce! You tell me that the doors remain fast?" demanded Mr. Legare, turning around upon us all. I assured him that they did. He was too polite to doubt my statement; but he wished to see for himself. We followed him, and found him in a state of admiration before Mr. Howard's door. When he had gazed some time at that, and tried it in various ways, he turned about and went to mine, which he proved in the same manner. And having found that both remained fast locked, without mistake, he extended his hand to Frank, and said: "Candidly, Mr. Howard, I did not believe in your success until this moment. You have fairly vanquished the ghosts!" Frank Howard took the offered hand, and bowed gravely and silently, as he again resigned it. The doors were then opened, and Phlit admitted to do his duties. And we separated to prepare for the evening watch-party. It was eight o'clock when our friends from the neighborhood came in; and after partaking of a bowl of eggnog in the dining-room, we adjourned to the parlor, where we passed four hours in very pleasant social intercourse, conversing, singing and reading. And as the clock neared the stroke of twelve, Mr. Howard took a volume of Tennyson, and in an affecting manner read his tender and beautiful "Requiem of the Dying Year." All were moved, and as the reader finished, the tears were running down the cheeks of Mathilde, who said: "Oh! I do not know how any one, even the most thoughtless, can bear to 'dance out the old year!' I could no more do it than I could dance beside the deathbed of a dear old friend! But I must not greet the infant New Year with tears," she exclaimed, and dashing aside the sparkling drops that spangled the roses of her cheeks, and turning to her parents, she said: "Dearest father! Dearest mother! Let me be the first to wish you a Happy New Year, and many, ever happier returns of it!" "You make our anniversaries happy, best child; now tell us truly what shall be our New Year's gift to you?" said Mr. Legare, while Mrs. Legare silently embraced her daughter. Blushing deeply, Mathilde whispered one word to her father, who repressed a rising sigh, and asked: "Is this so? Must this be so, my dearest child?" "Yes, my father." "Then am I doubly bound to do what I am about to do, Mr. Howard!" Frank Howard stepped eagerly forward. "Mr. Howard! I always settle outstanding debts at the first of the year," said Mr. Legare, taking the hand of Mathilde and placing it in that of Frank Howard, who gently pressed it, as he answered: