"Good morning! It seems I am the laggard to-day, but Nicholas had
mislaid the flower shears, and detained me. Hereafter I shall turn
over this work of dressing vases to you, child. My son, this is your
birthday, and here is your button-hole souvenir."

She fastened a few sprigs of white jasmine in his linen coat, and,
as he thanked her briefly, and turned to the table, she said, with
marked emphasis:

"St. Elmo, let me introduce you to Edna Earl."

He looked around, and fixed his keen eyes on the orphan, whose
cheeks crimsoned as she looked down and said, quite distinctly:

"Good morning, Mr. Murray."

"Good morning, Miss Earl."

"No, I protest! 'Miss Earl,' indeed! Call the child Edna."

"As you please, mother, provided you do not let the coffee and
chocolate get cold while you decide the momentous question."

Neither spoke again for some time, and in the embarrassing silence
Edna kept her eyes on the china, wondering if all their breakfasts
would be like this. At last Mr. Murray pushed away his large coffee-
cup, and said abruptly:

"After all, it is only one year to-day since I came back to America,
though it seems much longer. It will soon be time to prepare for my