“Aunty,” said Leonidas, taking the hand of Odalite, and leading her up to Mrs. Force, who stood before the grand piano, putting away the sheets of music before closing the instrument—“aunty, dear, I am not going away to-morrow.”

“What now?” inquired the lady, in some uneasiness.

“I mean I am not going away to-morrow morning. I can go to-morrow night, and be in time to join my ship on the third. It will be a close shave, as to time, auntie; but then, it will give me twelve more hours with you all. Twelve precious hours! Aunty, are you sorry? You look so grave.”

“No, dear boy, I am glad to have you until the last possible moment. I only regret that you have to go at all,” kindly replied Mrs. Force.

“Yaw! Oh, Lord! I could crack my jawbones a-gasping! Never was so sleepy in my life! Say, good folks, ain’t it time to go to bed? After being up most all night, and not even getting a wink of sleep this morning.”

The suggestion came from the lady from the gold diggings, of course; and it was so speedily acted upon—especially since Leonidas had announced his intention of deferring his departure until the next night—that in less than half an hour the parties had separated and retired to their several bedrooms.

The next day was the last that Leonidas Force would spend at Mondreer for three years, at least.

All that day Mr. Force was closeted with his overseer, in his office, looking over the farm books and making up the accounts for the year just closed.

Mrs. Force was merciful, and told Leonidas and Odalite to spend this last day as they pleased.

The young couple, warmly clothed, set out through the splendid winter sunshine and over the crisply frozen snow to walk to Greenbushes.

They went out by the north gate, through the woods, across Chincapin Creek, and so on to the farmhouse.

They took the housekeeper by surprise indeed; but they never could take her unprepared.

She soon laid as dainty a repast upon the table as two young people, with healthy appetites sharpened by a brisk walk through the winter woods, ever sat down to and enjoyed.

The two lingered over that meal, playing at housekeeping, playing at being master and mistress at their own table.

When they were tired of that little drama they went all through the house, Odalite seeing the improvements that had been made there during the weeks of her absence.

“All this new furniture is to be packed up or covered over, and the rooms are to be closed up, and only opened occasionally to be dried or aired. And, my darling of darlings, I mean never to live in this house until I can bring you here as its mistress. I ask no promise from you, my dear, for I must not; but I can and will give you mine,” said Leonidas, earnestly.

“Le, dear, you do not need a promise from me, nor I from you. We know and can trust each other, dear. And, Le, I will come over here once every week to open and air the rooms and inspect the furniture, so that nothing shall come to harm from ignorance or neglect. And, Le, this weekly work will be my happiest employment, except that of writing to you.”

“Dear Odalite, now I feel that you are my own again. This weekly work, as you call it, will be a sign between us. It will be your own house you will be watching over, darling. And when I return from this voyage, if all should go well with us, we will settle down here, and I will never go to sea again. We two shall not be so very old when I come home again. You will be twenty, and I will be twenty-five.”

She smiled up in his face in her old arch manner, but made no reply in words.

When they had gone through all the rooms, as it was some time after noon, they took leave of Greenbushes and of the old servants, and set out to return to Mondreer.

They varied their walk by going down the wooded hill to the bay and walking along the shore until they reached Mondreer, and up the wooded hill again to the mansion.

“This is our last walk by the shore for three years to come; but it is also the happiest we have had since my return from sea; for now we fully understand and trust one another,” said Le, as they re-entered the house.

The short winter afternoon was drawing to a close. The sun was just above the wooded hills on the western horizon, and the moon had not yet risen above the bay.

It had been arranged that Mr. Force, Odalite, Wynnette and Elva should accompany their cousin to the distant railway to see him off—“to see the last of him,” as Wynnette put it, in a tragi-comic air. They were to go in the large sleigh, drawn by a pair of draught horses driven by Jake.

Tea had been ordered at half-past five o’clock, and the sleigh was to be brought to the door at six. By that time the moon would be up and the road lightened.

The servants were punctual. At the appointed hour the whole family gathered around the tea table, and by much tea drinking and more talking and laughing, tried to enliven the gloom of the last hour.

As soon as tea was over, the girls flew off upstairs to put on hooded cloaks and shawls and overshoes for their moonlight sleigh ride. Leonidas put on his ulster and seal cap, and then made a round of the house and the stables and quarters to bid good-by to all the servants, who gave him many prayers and blessings, after the manner of their warm hearts.

When he returned to the hall he found Mr. Force and the three girls already packed in the sleigh under heaps of bearskins.

“Make your adieus as brief as possible, my dear boy! It is necessary to ‘speed the parting guest,’ or he will not catch the train, and then what will become of his official honor?” called out Mr. Force from the sleigh.

Le caught his aunt in his arms and kissed her while he received her blessing. Then he embraced Miss Meeke, who cried over him a little. Finally he gave his hand to Mrs. Anglesea to bid her a respectful and friendly good-by; but that affectionate creature caught him in her arms and pressed him to her bosom, saying, when she had kissed him heartily:

“Lord bless you, young un! I don’t care if you do miss the train and fail to report for duty and get court-martialed and dismissed the service; for then yer can stay home and marry your gal—and let honor be hanged and the service go to Old Scratch! You’ll be happy with your fine farm and your pretty wife.”

“Come, come, Le! My dear fellow, come!” called Mr. Force.

Leonidas broke away from the kindly arms that held him and hurried into the sleigh, which started off so suddenly that the young midshipman literally dropped into the seat that had been kept for him beside Odalite.

The sleigh sped over the snow-clad, moonlit ground, through the north gate of the lawn and into the forest.

Before reaching Chincapin Creek it turned off to the left and took the road to the railway station.

Their way lay through the forest for many a mile. Odalite and Leonidas sat in the back seat, covered with the same bearskin, and with their hands clasped together. Very few words passed between them. But the frequent hand pressures silently spoke.

Wynnette and Elva sat in front of them, and chattered incessantly to encourage themselves and their party, very much upon the same principle that boys are said to whistle in going through a churchyard at night, to keep up their spirits—for the children loved their cousin dearly and hated to part from him.

Mr. Force sat on the front seat beside Jake, who drove.

The horses went at full speed and fairly flew over the ground.

When they emerged at last from the forest they saw the lights in the railway station gleaming in the distance, and soon after heard the far-off thunder of the approaching train.

“Faster, Jacob! Faster!” cried Mr. Force. “Oh, Le, my boy, what a close shave this is! How much you have risked for the sake of spending a few more hours with us!”

“Well, I gained the hours, and I shall catch the train!” exclaimed the young man, as the sleigh suddenly pulled up before the ticket office at the same instant that the train ran into the station.

“Don’t get out! there’s no time!” exclaimed Le, as he suddenly strained Odalite to his bosom, kissed her passionately and started from his seat. A hasty handshake with his uncle and then with Jake, both of whom called blessings down on him; a hasty kiss to Wynnette and Elva, both of whom burst out crying and bellowed lustily; then a last long kiss again to his dear Odalite, who received it in a suffocating silence; and the next moment the young man had jumped from the sleigh and disappeared in the station, and almost immediately the train went on.

The party in the sleigh waited in total silence but for the sobs of Wynnette and Elva, until the train had passed out of sight and hearing.

“I thought he might have missed it, but he has not,” said Mr. Force.

“Oh, I wish, I wish he had!” sobbed Elva.

“But what would have become of his honor, my dear?” questioned her father.

“Oh, I don’t care a pin for that sort of honor, any more than Mrs. Anglesea does! I wanted him—I loved him!” sobbed Elva.

“I don’t see why people should part when they don’t want to and are not obliged to, just for a notion!” cried Wynnette.

“Drive home, Jacob. But not too fast. We can spare the horses now,” said Mr. Force.

And the coachman turned the horses’ heads and took the homeward road.

They arrived at Mondreer at ten o’clock and found Mrs. Force, Mrs. Anglesea and Miss Meeke cozily sitting around the parlor fire and watching a jug of hot mulled port wine which the mistress had brewed for the returning cold and benumbed travelers.

Mrs. Force took Odalite in her arms and kissed her in silent sympathy, while Mrs. Anglesea occupied herself with the congenial task of pouring out the hot, spiced wine into glass goblets for the party.

They all sat around the table—those who had gone abroad and those who had stayed at home—and every one partook of the warming and exhilarating beverage, while Mr. Force related what a fine sleigh ride they had had, and how Le caught his train just in the nick of time.

They all drank Le’s health in a final glass, and then separated, and retired to rest.