I think that year was one of the happiest I ever spent during my early life. Every day that William Dene was with us, we saw more and more of the truth and goodness of his character. By degrees, Aunt Milly learned to consult and trust him just as a mother does a beloved son. How proud, too, she was of his college honours! Indeed, I doubt whether his own mother, who was of a very quiet, placid disposition, thought as much of her son's well-won place as did Aunt Milly. One day, during the long vacation, my aunt said to him, "William, when will your birthday be?" "Did I never tell you, aunt?" said he. "I am a Christmas child. I was born on the twenty-fifth of December." "And you will be of age next Christmas?" "Yes, aunt; and I come into my whole inheritance at once. A pair of long legs that can get over as much ground as most, a pair of strong hands, and a head which I have done my best to furnish. These are my capital and stock to trade with, and I hope they will bring me a fair return." "Not to be despised, William: good health, good education, and the will to use them in a right way, are things to thank God for with all one's heart." "I feel that, dear aunt; and there is another blessing I have to thank you for—an easy mind. You have removed the anxieties I used to have about my mother and the boys by your generous kindness to them." My aunt put her hand to his lips to hinder the further expression of thanks. "Do not speak of that, William," she replied. "It reminds me that I might have saved you all these years of suffering and anxiety if I had only thought less of myself and more of others. Now about your birthday. Our Christmas this year, please God, will be a double festival. We shall gather all your people, William, and all mine, and we will have our friends and neighbours, rich and poor, to rejoice with us." When Christmas Day did come, it was such a one as I shall never forget. The old church at Denesfield was full to overflowing; and there was one special prayer offered for him who that day attained to man's estate, that the blessing of God would rest upon him—that indeed he might be blessed and made a blessing to those amongst whom he would, in course of time, be called to dwell. Those who heard that prayer guessed rightly that my Aunt Milly was asking the prayers of the congregation for him who was, after her, to be the master of Denesfield. I believe every lip and heart echoed the prayer, for all the people were learning to know and love William Dene, and they rejoiced that one of the "old stock" would be heir to Denesfield. My father and mother rejoiced with all their hearts. They never desired the inheritance for their children; and when Aunt Milly took the course they always hoped she might be led to take, with regard to her husband's relatives, they were greatly pleased.