It had been raining all day from out a lowering sky and, as we
emerged into the gathering twilight, we were greeted by a cheer ,
less drizzle, which was driven hither and thither by a cold, raw
wind, and I was glad to reach the quiet of my room in the quaint
old Warwick Inn, to be sheltered from the warring elements
without. A cheerful fire was glowing on the hearth sending its
ruddy light into the farthermost corners of the room. The land
lord's cat was purring contentedly on the rug before the fire.
Divesting myself of my wet clothing, I drew my chair nearer to
the cheerful blaze and mentally ran over the day's sightseeing.
My musing was suddenly cut short by a knock at
,the door. In
answer to my summons to enter, for I thought it was the landlord,
the door opened and before me stood his daughter. " A letter for
you sir," she said with a courtesy. " And is there anything you
wish?" I thanked her for bringing the letter and added, " Noth
ing except to be called at six in the morning." " Yes sir " she
replied, and with another courtesy, closed, the door and left me to
my musing.
What a luxury to lie back in the big arm chair before the
cheery fire, and read over for a second, and even a third time,
those messages,—messages of love and greeting from across the
sea. It outweighs all the discomforts of an absence from home to
feel the heart-throbs of new life that the home letters will bring.
The letter was from my sister. "We miss you so much," were
the words, " out home doesn't seem complete, and father often
says he wishes Edward were here to help him in his business per
plexities." But there was one paragraph that burned itself deep
into my mind. " Katharine is seen very little in society and
there is a rumor about town that she has given up her art work."
Further on I read: " Katharine called to-day; she asked about you
and said she hoped you would return home unchanged."
So Katharine had really not forgotten me and was even inter
ested in my return. Why, it was on her account that I was at .
that moment globe trotting instead of being settled down in a
home of my own. "No Edward," she had said to me in a
tone of deep conviction, " I am wedded to my art, and although
I do not doubt the sincerity of your love, yet it would be impos
sible for me to make: you happy." Her words had wounded me,
for I loved her passionately, and in those moments of dis-
A CHRISTMAS ROMANCIt