Chapter III: Front Matter (3)

Nicholas entered, though somewhat wondering how they were to settle Miss Brown's residence there by the most protracted conversation. The man in shirt-sleeves showed him into a sitting-room, and setting the lamp upon the top of a corner what-not, where it twinkled like a distant star, he gave Nicholas a seat, and took one opposite to him, first shutting the door behind them.

"Will you give me your name, Sir?" said he.

Nicholas hesitated, not quite liking to part with it to one who might misuse it.

"I have no objection," said his companion, in a sonorous voice, "to giving my name to any one that asks it. My name is Soprian Manlius."

"And mine," said Nicholas, not to be outdone in generosity, "is Nicholas Judge."

"Very well, Mr. Judge. Now we understand each other, I think. I asked your name as a guaranty of good faith. Anonymous contributions cannot be received, et cetera,--as they say at the head of newspapers. And that's my rule of business, Sir. People come to me to ask the character of a girl, and I ask their names. If they don't want to give them, I say, 'Very well; I can't intrust the girl's character to people without name.' And it brings them out, Sir, it brings them out," said Mr. Manlius, leaning back, and taking a distant view of his masterly diplomacy.

"Do people come to you to inquire after persons' characters?" asked Nicholas, somewhat surprised at happening upon such an oracle.

"Well, in a general way, no," said Mr. Manlius, smiling; "though I won't say but that they would succeed as well here as in most places. In a particular way, yes. I keep an intelligence-office. Here is my card, Sir,"--pulling one out of his waistcoat-pocket, and presenting it to Nicholas; "and you will see by the phraseology employed, that I have unrivalled means for securing the most valuable help from all parts of the world. Mr. Judge," he whispered, leaning forward, and holding up his forefinger to enforce strict secrecy, "I keep a paid agent in Nova Scotia." And once more Mr. Manlius retreated in his chair, to get the whole effect of the announcement upon his visitor.

The internal economy of an office for obtaining and furnishing intelligence might have been further revealed to Nicholas; but at this moment a voice was heard on the outside of the door, calling, "S'prian! S'prian! we're 'most ready."

"Coming, Caroline," replied Mr. Manlius, and, recalled to the object for which his visitor was there, he turned to Nicholas, and resumed,--

"Well, Mr. Judge, about Miss Eunice Brown, whether she lives here or not. Are you personally acquainted with Miss Brown?"

"No, Sir," said Nicholas, frankly. "I will tell you plainly my predicament. Miss Eunice Brown was my mother's sister; but after my mother's death, which took place at my birth, there was no intercourse with her on the part of our family, which consisted of my father and myself. My father, I ought to say, had no unfriendliness toward her, but his habits of life were those of a solitary student; and therefore he took no pains to keep up the acquaintance. He heard of her marriage, and the subsequent death of her husband; rumor reached him of a second marriage, but he never heard the name of the man she married in either case. My father lately died; but before his death he advised me to seek this aunt, if possible, since she was my only living near relation; and he told me that he had heard of her living in this court many years ago. So I have come here with faint hope of tracing her."

Mr. Manlius listened attentively to this explanation; and then solemnly walking to the door, he called in a deep voice, as if he would have the summons start from the very bottom of the house for thoroughness,--"Caroline!"

The call was answered immediately by the appearance of Mrs. Manlius, in a red dress, that put everything else in the room in the background.

"Caroline," said he, more impressively than would seem necessary, and pointing to Nicholas, "this is Mr. Nicholas Judge. Mr. Judge, you see my wife."

"But, my dear," said Mrs. Manlius, nervously, as soon as she had bowed, discovering the feeble lamp, which was saving its light by burning very dimly, "that lamp will be off the what-not in a moment. How could you put it right on the edge?" And she took it down from its pinnacle, and placed it firmly on the middle of a table, at a distance from anything inflammable. "Mr. Manlius is so absent-minded, Sir," said she, turning to Nicholas.

"Caroline," said her husband, "this will be a memorable day in the history of our family. Eunice has found a dear sister's son."

"Where?" she asked, turning for explanation to Nicholas, who at Mr. Manlius's words felt his heart beat quicker.

Then Mr. Manlius, in as few words as his dignity and the occasion would deem suitable, stated the case to his wife, who looked admiringly upon Mr. Manlius's oratory, and interestingly upon Nicholas.

"Shall I call Eunice down, S'prian?" said she, when her husband concluded, and conveying some mysterious information to him by means of private signals.

"We have here," said Mr. Manlius, now turning the hose of his eloquence toward Nicholas, and playing upon him, "we have here a dear friend, who has abode in our house for many years. She came to us when she was in trouble, and here has she found a resting-place for the soles of her feet. Sir," with a darksome glance, "her relations had forgotten her."

"I must say"----interrupted Nicholas; but Mr. Manlius waved him back, and continued:--

"But she found true kinsfolk in the friends of her early days. We have cared for her tenderly, and now at last we have our reward in consigning her to the willing hands of a young scion of her house. She was Eunice Brown; she had a sister who married a Judge, as I have often heard her say; and she herself married Mr. Archibald Starkey, who is now no more. Caroline, I will call Eunice"; and Mr. Manlius went heavily out of the room.

Nicholas was very much agitated, and Mrs. Manlius very much excited, over this sudden turn of affairs.

"Eunice has lived with us fifteen years, come February; and she has been one of the family, coming in and going out like the rest of us. I found her on the doorstep one night, and wasn't going to bring her in at first, because, you see, I didn't know what she might be; when, lo and behold! she looked up, and said I, 'Eunice Brown!' 'Yes,' said she, and said she was cold and hungry; and I brought her in, and told Mr. Manlius, and he came and talked with her, and said he, 'Caroline, there is character in that woman'; for, Mr. Judge, Mr. Manlius can read character in a person wonderfully; he has a real gift that way; and, indeed, he needs it in his profession; and, as I tell him, he was born an intelligence-officer."

Thus, and with more in the same strain, did Mrs. Manlius give vent to her feelings, though hardly in the ear of Nicholas, who paced the room in restless expectation of his aunt's approach. He heard enough to give a turn to his thoughts; and it was with unaffected sorrow that he reflected how the lonely woman had been dependent upon the charity, as it seemed, of others. He saw in her now no longer merely the motherly aunt who was to welcome him, but one whom he should care for, and take under his protection. He heard steps in the entry, and easily detected the ponderous tread of Mr. Manlius, who now opened the door, and reappeared in more careful toilet, since he was furbished and smoothed by the addition of proper touches, until he had quite the air of a man of society. He entered the room with great pomp and ceremony all by himself, and met Nicholas's disappointed look by saying, slowly,--

"Mrs. Starkey, your beloved aunt, will appear presently"; and throwing a look about the room, as if he would call the attention of all the people in the dress-circle, boxes, and amphitheatre, he continued--"I have intimated to your aunt the nature of your relationship, and I need not say that she is quite agitated at the prospective meeting. She is a woman"----

But Mr. Manlius's flow was suddenly turned off by the appearance of Mrs. Starkey herself. The introduction, too, which, as manager of this little scene, he had rehearsed to himself, was rendered unnecessary by the prompt action of Nicholas, who hastened forward, with tumultuous feelings, to greet his aunt. His honest nature had no sceptical reserve; and he saluted her affectionately, before the light of the feeble lamp, which seemed to have husbanded all its strength for this critical moment, could disclose to him anything of the personal appearance of his relative. At this moment the twinkling light, like a star at dawn, went out; and Mrs. Manlius, rushing off, reappeared with an astral, which turned the somewhat gloomy aspect of affairs into cheerful light. Perhaps it was symbolic of a sunrise upon the world which enclosed Nicholas and his aunt. Nicholas looked at Mrs. Starkey, who was indeed flurried, and saw a pinched and meagre woman, the flower of whose youth had long ago been pressed in the book of ill-fortune until it was colorless and scentless. She found words presently, even before Nicholas did; and sitting down with him in the encouraging presence of the Manlii, she uttered her thoughts in an incoherent way:--

"Dear, dear! who would have said it? When Miss Pix came to invite us all to her party, and said, 'Mrs. Starkey, I'm sure I hope you will come,' I thought it might be too much for such a quiet body as I be. But that was nothing to this. Why, if here I haven't got a real nephew; and, to be sure, it's a great while since I saw your mother, but, I declare, you do look just like her, and a Judge's son you are, too. Did they say you looked like your father, Nickey? I was asking Caroline if she thought my bombazine would do, after all; and now I do think I ought to wear my India silk, and put on my pearl necklace, for I don't want my Nicky to be ashamed of me. You'll go with us, won't you, nephew, to Miss Pix's? I expect it's going to be a grand party; and I'll go round and introduce you to all the great people; and how did you leave your father, Nicholas?"

"Why, aunt, did not Mr. Manlius tell you that he was dead?" said Nicholas. "Her memory's a little short," whispered Mrs. Manlius; but, hardly interrupted by this little answer and whisper, Mrs. Starkey was again plunging headlong into a current of words, and struggling among the eddies of various subjects. Meanwhile, Mr. and Mrs. Manlius, having, as managers, set the little piece on the stage in good condition, were carrying on a private undertoned conversation, which resulted in Mrs. Manlius asking, in an engaging manner,--

"Eunice, dear, would you prefer to stay at home this evening with your nephew? Because we will excuse you to Miss Pix, who would hardly expect you."

Mrs. Starkey was in the midst of a voluble description of some private jewelry which she intended to show the astonished Nicholas; but she caught the last words, and veered round to Mrs. Manlius, saying,--

"Indeed, she expects me; and she expects Nicholas, too. She will be very much gratified to see him, and I have no doubt she will give another party for him; and if she does, I mean to invite my friend the alderman to go. I shouldn't wonder if he was to be there to-night; and now I think of it, it must be time to be going. Caroline, have you got your things on?"

Mrs. Starkey spoke with a determination that suffered no opposition, so that Nicholas and Mr. Manlius were left alone for a moment, while the two women should wrap themselves up.

"Your aunt is unduly excited, Mr. Judge," said the intelligence-officer; "and it was for that reason that I advised she should not go. She has hardly been herself the last day or two. Our neighbor, Miss Pix,--a woman whose character is somewhat unsettled; no fixed principles. Sir, I fear," shaking his head regretfully; "too erratic, controlled by impulse, possessing an inquisitive temperament," telling off upon a separate finger each count in the charges against Miss Pix's character, and reserving for the thumb the final overwhelming accusation,--"Sir, she has not learned the great French economical principle of Lassy Fair." Miss Pix being thus stricken down, he helped her up again with an apology. "But her advantages have no doubt been few. She has not studied political economy; and how can she hope to walk unerringly?"--and Mr. Manlius gazed at an imaginary Miss Pix wandering without compass or guide over the desert of life. "She makes a party to-night. And why? Because it is Christmas-eve. That is a small foundation, Mr. Judge, on which to erect the structure of social intercourse. Society, Sir, should be founded on principles, not accidents. Because my house is accidentally contiguous to two others, shall I consider myself, and shall Mrs. Manlius consider herself, as necessarily bound by the ligaments of Nature--by the ligaments of Nature, Mr. Judge,--to the dwellers in those houses? No, Sir. I don't know who lives in this court beside Miss Pix. Nature brought your aunt and Mrs. Manlius together, and Nature brought you and your aunt together. We will go, however, to Miss Pix's. It will gratify her. But your aunt is excited about the, for her, unusual occasion. And now she has seen you. I feared this interview might overcome her. She is frail; but she is fair, Sir, if I may say so. She has character; very few have as much,--and I have seen many women. Did you ever happen to see Martha Jewmer, Mr. Judge?"

Nicholas could not remember that he had.

"Well, Sir, that woman has been in my office twelve times. I got a place for her each time. And why? Because she has character"; and Mr. Manlius leaned back to get a full view of character. Before he had satisfied himself enough to continue his reminiscences, his wife and Mrs. Starkey returned, bundled up as if they were going on a long sleigh-ride.

"We're ready, S'prian," said Mrs. Manlius. "Eunice thinks she will go still,"--which was evident from the manner in which Mrs. Starkey had gathered about her a quantity of ill-assorted wrappers, out of the folds of which she delivered herself to each and all in a rapid and disjointed manner; and the party proceeded out of the house, Mrs. Manlius first shutting and opening various doors, according to some intricate system of ventilation and heating.

Nicholas gave his arm to his aunt, and, though anxious to speak of many things, could hardly slip a word into the crevices of her conversation; nor then did his questions or answers bring much satisfactory response. He was confused with various thoughts, unable to explain the random talk of his companion, and yet getting such glimpses of the dreary life she had led as made him resolve to give her a home that should admit more sunshine into her daily experience.

They were not kept waiting long at Miss Pix's door, for a ruddy German girl opened it at their summons; and once inside, Miss Pix herself came forward with beaming face to give them a Christmas-eve greeting. Mr. Manlius had intended making the official announcement of the arrival of the new nephew, but was no match for the ready Mrs. Starkey, who at once seized upon their hostess, and shook her warmly by the hand, pouring out a confused and not over-accurate account of her good-fortune, mixing in various details of her personal affairs. Miss Pix, however, made out the main fact, and turned to Nicholas, welcoming him with both hands, and in the same breath congratulating Mrs. Starkey, showing such honest, whole-souled delight that Nicholas for a moment let loose in his mind a half-wish that Miss Pix had proved to be his aunt, so much more nearly did she approach his ideal. The whole party stood basking for a moment in Miss Pix's Christmas greeting, then extricated themselves from their wrappers with the help of their bustling hostess, and were ushered into her little parlor, where they proved to be the first arrivals. It was almost like sitting down in an arbor: for walls and ceilings were quite put out of sight by the evergreen dressing; the candlesticks and picture-frames seemed to have budded; and even the poker had laid aside its constitutional stiffness, and unbent itself in a miraculous spiral of creeping vine. Mr. Manlius looked about him with the air of a connoisseur, and complimented Miss Pix.

"A very pretty room, Miss Pix,--a very pretty room! Quite emblematical!" And he cocked his head at some new point.

"Oh, I can't have my Christmas without greens!" said Miss Pix. "Christmas and greens, you know, is the best dish in the world. Isn't it, Mrs. Starkey?"

But Mrs. Starkey had no need of a question; for she had already started on her career as a member of the party, and was galloping over a boundless field of observation.

There was just then another ring; and Miss Pix started for the door, in her eagerness to greet her visitors, but recollected in season the tribute which she must pay to the by-laws of society, and hovered about the parlor-door till Gretchen could negotiate between the two parties. Gretchen's pleased exclamation in her native tongue at once indicated the nature of the arrival; and Miss Pix, whispering loudly to Mrs. Manlius, "My musical friends," again rushed forward, and received her friends almost noisily; for when they went stamping about the entry to shake off the snow from their feet against the inhospitable world outside, she also, in the excess of her sympathetic delight, caught herself stamping her little foot. There was a hurly-burly, and then they all entered the parlor in a procession, preceded by Miss Pix, who announced them severally to her guests as Mr. Pfeiffer, Mr. Pfeffendorf, Mr. Schmauker, and Mr. Windgraff. Everybody bowed at once, and rose to the surface, hopelessly ignorant of the name and condition of all the rest, except his or her immediate friends. The four musical gentlemen especially entirely lost their names in the confusion; and as they looked very much alike, it was hazardous to address them, except upon general and public grounds.

Mrs. Starkey was the most bewildered, and also the most bent upon setting herself right,--a task which promised to occupy the entire evening. "Which is the fifer?" she asked Nicholas; but he could not tell her, and she appealed in vain to the others. Perhaps it was as well, since it served as an unfailing resource with her through the evening. When nothing else occupied her attention, she would fix her eyes upon one of the four, and walk round till she found some one disengaged enough to label him, if possible; and as the gentlemen had much in common, while Mrs. Starkey's memory was confused, there was always room for more light.

Miss Pix meanwhile had disentangled Nicholas from Mrs. Starkey, and, as one newly arrived in the court, was recounting to him the origin of her party.

"You see, Mr. Judge, I have only lived here a few weeks. I had to leave my old house; and I took a great liking to this little court, and especially to this little house in it. 'What a delightful little snuggery!' thought I. 'Here one can be right by the main streets, and yet be quiet all day and evening.' And that's what I want; because, you see, I have scholars to come and take music-lessons of me. 'And then,' I thought to myself, 'I can have four neighbors right in the same yard, you may say.' Well, here I came; but--do you believe it?--hardly anybody even looked out of the window when the furniture-carts came up, and I couldn't tell who lived in any house. Why, I was here three weeks, and nobody came to see me. I might have been sick, and nobody would have known it." Here little Miss Pix shook her head ruefully at the vision of herself sick and alone. "I've seen what that is," she added, with a mysterious look. "'Well, now,' I said to myself, 'I can't live like this. It isn't Christian. I don't believe but the people in the court could get along with me, if they knew me.' Well, they didn't come, and they didn't come; so I got tired, and one day I went round and saw them all,--no, I didn't see the old gentleman in Number One that time. Will you believe it? not a soul knew anybody else in any house but their own! I was amazed, and I said to myself, 'Betsey Pix, you've got a mission'; and, Mr. Judge, I went on that mission. I made up my mind to ask all the people in the court, who could possibly come, to have a Christmas-eve gathering in my house. I got them all, except the Crimps, in Number Two, who would not, do what I could. Then I asked four of my friends to come and bring their instruments; for there's nothing like music to melt people together. But, oh, Mr. Judge, not one house knows that another house in the court is to be here; and, oh, Mr. Judge, I've got such a secret!" And here Miss Pix's cork flew to the ceiling, in the manner hinted at by Mr. Paul Le Clear; while Nicholas felt himself to have known Miss Pix from birth, and to be, in a special manner, her prime-minister on this evening.

It was not long before there was another ring, and Mr. Le Clear appeared, who received the jiggoty Miss Pix's welcome in a smiling and well-bred manner, and suffered himself to be introduced to the various persons present, when all seized the new opportunity to discover the names of the musical gentlemen, and fasten them to the right owners. Paul laughed when he saw Nicholas, and spoke to him as an old acquaintance. Miss Pix was suddenly in great alarm, and, beckoning away Nicholas, whispered, "Don't for the world tell him where the others live." Like the prime-minister with a state-secret, Nicholas went back to Paul, and spent the next few minutes in the trying task of answering leading questions with misleading answers.

"I see," said the acute Mr. Le Clear to himself; "the aunt is that marplotty dame who has turned our young Judge into a prisoner at the bar"; and he entered into conversation with Mrs. Starkey with great alacrity, finding her a very ripe cucumber. Mr. Manlius, who was talking, in easy words of two syllables, to the musical gentlemen, overheard some of Mrs. Starkey's revelations to Mr. Le Clear, and, watching his opportunity, got Paul into a corner, where he favored him with some confidences respecting the lady.

"You may have thought, Sir," said he, in a whisper, "that Mrs. Starkey is--is,"--and he filled out the sentence with an expressive gesture toward his own well-balanced head.

"Not at all," said Paul, politely.

"She is periodically affected," continued Mr. Manlius, "with what I may perhaps call excessive and ill-balanced volubility. Mrs. Starkey, Sir, is a quiet person, rarely speaking; but once in five or six weeks,--the periods do not return with exact regularity,--she is subject to some hidden influence, which looses her tongue, as it were. I think she is under the influence now, and her words are not likely to--to correspond exactly with existing facts. You will not be surprised, then, at her words. They are only words, words. At other times she is a woman of action. She has a wonderful character, Sir."

"Quite a phenomenon, indeed, I should say," said Paul, ready to return to so interesting a person, but politely suffering Mr. Manlius to flow on, which he did uninterruptedly.

Doctor Chocker was the last to come. Miss Pix knew his infirmity, and contented herself with mute, but expressive signs, until the old gentleman could adjust his trumpet and receive her hearty congratulations. He jerked out a response, which Miss Pix received with as much delight as if he had flowed freely, like Mr. Manlius, who was now playing upon Mr. Le Clear an analysis of Nicholas's character, which he had read with unerring accuracy, as Mrs. Manlius testified by her continued, unreserved agreement. Indeed, the finding of his aunt by Nicholas in so unexpected a manner was the grand topic of the evening; and the four musical gentlemen, hearing the story in turn from each of the others, were now engaged in a sort of diatessaron, in which the four accounts were made to harmonize with considerable difficulty: Mr. Schmauker insisting upon his view, that Nicholas had arrived wet and hungry, was found on the doorstep, and dragged in by Mrs. Starkey; while Mr. Pfeffendorf and Mr. Pfeiffer substituted Mrs. Manlius for Mrs. Starkey; and Mr. Windgraff proposed an entirely new reading.

Dr. Chocker's entrance created a lull; and the introduction, performed in a general way by the hostess, brought little information to the rest, who were hoping to revise their list of names,--and very little to the Doctor, who looked about inquisitively, as Miss Pix dropped the company in a heap into his ear-trumpet. His eye lighted on Nicholas, and he went forward to meet him, to the astonishment of the company, who looked upon Nicholas as belonging exclusively to them. A new theory was at once broached by Mr. Windgraff to his companions, that Dr. Chocker had brought about the recognition; but it lost credit as the Doctor began to question Nicholas, in an abrupt way, upon his presence there.

"Didn't know I should meet you again, young man," said he. "But you don't take my advice, eh? or you wouldn't have been here. But I'm setting you a pretty example! This isn't the way to study the value of words, eh, Mr.--Mr.--Le Clear?"

The real Mr. Le Clear and his fiction looked at each other, and by a rapid interchange of glances signified their inability to extricate themselves from the snarl, except by a dangerous cut, which Nicholas had not the courage at the moment to give. The rest of the company were mystified; and Mr. Manlius, pocketing the character which he had just been giving, free of charge, to his new acquaintance, turned to his wife, and whispered awfully, "An impostor, Caroline!" Mrs. Manlius looked anxiously and frightened back to him; but he again whispered, "Wait for further developments, Caroline!" and she sank into a state of terrified curiosity. Fortunately, Mrs. Starkey was at the moment confiding much that was irrelevant to Mr. Le Clear the actual, who did not call her attention to the words. The four musical gentlemen were divided upon the accuracy of their hearing.

Miss Pix, who had been bustling about, unconscious of the mystery, now created a diversion by saying, somewhat flurried by the silence that followed her first words,--

"Our musical friends have brought a pleasant little surprise for us; but, Mr. Pfeiffer, won't you explain the Children's Symphony to the performers?"

Everybody at once made a note of Mr. Pfeiffer, and put a private mark on him for future reference; while he good-humoredly, and with embarrassing English, explained that Miss Pix had proposed that the company should produce Haydn's Children's Symphony, in which the principal parts were sustained by four stringed instruments, which he and his friends would play; while children's toy-instruments, which the other three were now busily taking out of a box, would be distributed among the rest of the company; and Miss Pix would act as leader, designating to each his or her part, and time of playing.

The proposal created considerable confusion in the company, especially when the penny-trumpet, drum, cuckoo, night-owl, quail, rattle, and whistle were exhibited, and gleefully tried by the four musical friends. Mr. Manlius eyed the penny-trumpet which was offered him with a doubtful air, but concluded to sacrifice his dignity for the good of the company. Mrs. Manlius received her cuckoo nervously, as if it would break forth in spite of her, and looked askance at Nicholas to see if he would dare to take the night-owl into his perjured hands. He did take it with great good-humor, and, at Miss Pix's request, undertook to persuade Doctor Chocker to blow the whistle. He had first to give a digest of Mr. Pfeiffer's speech into the ear-trumpet, and, it is feared, would have failed to bring the Doctor round without Miss Pix, who came up at the critical moment, and told him that she knew he must have known how when he was a boy, accompanied with such persuasive frolicking that the Doctor at once signified his consent and his proficiency by blowing a blast into Nicholas's ear, whom he regarded as a special enemy on good terms with him, to the great merriment of all.

The signal was given, and the company looked at Miss Pix, awaiting their turn with anxious solicitude. The symphony passed off quite well, though Mr. Le Clear, who managed the drum, was the only one who kept perfect time. Mrs. Starkey, who held the rattle aloft, sprung it at the first sound of the music, and continued to spring it in spite of the expostulations and laughter of the others. Mrs. Manlius, unable to follow Miss Pix's excited gestures, turned to her husband, and uttered the cuckoo's doleful note whenever he blew his trumpet, which he did deliberately at regular intervals. The effect, however, was admirable; and as the entire company was in the orchestra, the mutual satisfaction was perfect, and the piece was encored vociferously, to the delight of little Miss Pix, who enjoyed without limit the melting of her company, which was now going on rapidly. It continued even when the music had stopped, and Gretchen, very red, but intensely interested, brought in some coffee and cakes, which she distributed under Miss Pix's direction. Nicholas shared the good lady's pleasure, and addressed himself to his aunt with increased attention, taking good care to avoid Doctor Chocker, who submitted more graciously than would be supposed to a steady play from Mr. Manlius' hose. Mr. Pfeiffer and his three musical friends made themselves merry with Mrs. Manlius and Miss Pix, while Mr. Le Clear walked about performing chemical experiments upon the whole company.

And now Miss Pix, who had been all the while glowing more and more with sunshine in her face, again addressed the company, and said:--

"I think the best thing should be kept till toward the end; and I've got a scheme that I want you all to help me in. We're all neighbors here,"--and she looked round upon the company with a smile that grew broader, while they all looked surprised, and began to smile back in ignorant sympathy, except Doctor Chocker, who did not hear a word, and refused to smile till he knew what it was for. "Yes, we are all neighbors. Doctor Chocker lives in Number Two; Mr. and Mrs. Manlius, Mrs. Starkey, and Mr. Judge are from Number Three; my musical friends live within easy call; and I live in Number Five."

Here she looked round again triumphantly, and found them all properly astonished, and apparently very contented, except Doctor Chocker, who was immovable. Nicholas expressed the most marked surprise, as became so hypocritical a prime-minister, causing Mr. Manlius to make a private note of some unrevealed perjury.

"Now," said Miss Pix, pausing and arresting the profound attention of all, "now, who lives at Number Four?"

If she expected an answer, it was plainly not locked up in the breast of any one before her. But she did not expect an answer; she was determined to give that herself, and she continued:--

"There is a most excellent woman there, Mrs. Blake, whom I should have liked very much to introduce to you to-night, especially as it is her birthday. Isn't she fortunate to have been born on Christmas-eve? Well, I didn't ask her, because she is not able to leave her room. There she has sat, or lain, for fifteen years! She's a confirmed invalid; but she can see her friends. And now for my little scheme. I want to give her a surprise-party from all her neighbors, and I want to give it now. It's all right. Gretchen has seen her maid, and Mrs. Blake knows just enough to be willing to have me bring a few friends."

Miss Pix looked about, with a little anxiety peeping out of her good-souled, eager face. But the company was so melted down that she could now mould it at pleasure, and no opposition was made. Mr. Manlius volunteered to enlighten Doctor Chocker; but he made so long a preamble that the old scholar turned, with considerable impatience, to Miss Pix, who soon put him in good-humor, and secured his cooperation, though not without his indulging in some sinful and unneighborly remarks to Nicholas.

It proved unnecessary to go into the court, for these two housed happened to have a connection, which Miss Pix made use of, the door having been left open all the evening, that Mrs. Blake might catch some whiffs of the entertainment. Gretchen appeared in the doorway, bearing on a salver a great cake, made with her own hands, having Mrs. Blake's initials, in colored letters, on the frosting, and the whole surrounded by fifty little wax tapers, indicating her age, which all counted, and all counted differently, giving opportunity to the four musical friends to enter upon a fresh and lively discussion. The party was marshalled by Miss Pix in the order of houses, while she herself squeezed past them all on the staircase, to usher them into Mrs. Blake's presence.

Mrs. Blake was sitting in her reclining-chair as Miss Pix entered with her retinue. The room was in perfect order, and had about it such an air of neatness and purity that one felt one's self in a haven of rest upon crossing the threshold. The invalid sat quiet and at ease, looking forth upon the scene before her as if so safely moored that no troubling of the elements could ever reach her. Here had she lived, year after year, almost alone with herself, though now the big-souled little music-teacher was her constant visitor; but the entrance of all her neighbors seemed in no wise to agitate her placid demeanor. She greeted Miss Pix with a pleased smile; and all being now in the room, the bustling little woman, at the very zenith of her sunny course, took her stand and said,--

"This is my company, dear Mrs. Blake. These are all neighbors of ours, living in the court, or close by. We have been having a right merry time, and now we can't break up without bringing you our good wishes,--our Christmas good wishes, and our birthday good wishes," said Miss Pix, with a little oratorical flourish, which brought Gretchen to the front with her illuminated cake, which she positively could not have held another moment, so heavy had it grown, even for her stout arms.

Mrs. Blake laughed gently, and with a delighted look examined the great cake, with her initials, and did not need to count the wax tapers. It was placed on a stand, and she said,--

"Now I should like to entertain my guests, and, if you will let me, I will give you each a piece of my cake,--for it all belongs to me, after Miss Pix's graceful presentation; and if Miss Pix will be so good, I will ask her to make me personally acquainted with each of you."

So a knife was brought, and Mrs. Blake cut a generous piece, when Doctor Chocker was introduced, with great gesticulation on the part of Miss Pix.

"I am glad to see you, Doctor Chocker," said Mrs. Blake, distinctly, but quietly, into his trumpet. "Do you let your patients eat cake? Try this, and see if it isn't good for me."

"If I were a doctor of medicine," said he, jerkily, "I should bring my patients to see you"; at which Miss Pix nodded to him most vehemently, and the Doctor wagged his ear-trumpet in delight at the retort which he thought he had made.

Mr. Le Clear was introduced, and took his cake gracefully, saying, "I hope another year will see you at a Christmas-party of Miss Pix's"; but Mrs. Blake smiled, and said, "This is my little lot of earth, and I am sure there is a patch of stars above."

Mr. Manlius and wife came up together, he somewhat lumbering, as if Mrs. Blake's character were too much for his discernment, and Mrs. Manlius not quite sure of herself when her husband seemed embarrassed.

"This is really too funny," said Mrs. Blake, merrily; "as if I were a very benevolent person, doling out my charity of cake on Christmas-eve. Do, Mr. Manlius, take a large piece; and I am sure your wife will take some home to the children."

"What wonderful insight!" said Mr. Manlius, turning about to Nicholas, and drawing in his breath. "We have children,--two. That woman has a deep character, Mr. Judge."

"Mrs. Starkey, also of Number Three," said the mistress of ceremonies; "and Mr. Nicholas Judge, arrived only this evening."

"Nicholas Judge!" said Mrs. Blake, losing the color which the excitement had brought, and dropping the knife.

"My nephew," explained Mrs. Starkey. "Just came this evening, and found me at home. Never saw him before. Must tell you all about it." And she was plunging with alacrity into the delightful subject, with all its variations.

Mrs. Blake looked at Nicholas, while the color came and went in her cheeks.

"Stop!" said she, decisively, to Mrs. Starkey, and half rising, she leaned forward to Nicholas, and said rapidly, with an energy which seemed to be summoned from every part of her system,--

"Are you the son of Alice Brown?"

"Yes, yes," said Nicholas, tumultuously; "and you,--you are her sister. Here, take this miniature"; and he snatched one from his breast. "Is not this she? It is my mother. You are my Aunt Eunice," he exclaimed, as she sank back in her chair exhausted, but reaching out her arms to him.

"That young man is a base impostor!" said Mr. Manlius aloud, with his hand in his waistcoat; while Mrs. Manlius looked on deprecatingly, but as if too, too aware of the sad fact. "I said so to my wife in private,--I read it in his face,--and now I declare it publicly. That man is a base impostor!"

"Dear, dear, I don't understand it at all!" said the unfortunate Mrs. Starkey. "I thought, to be sure, that Nicholas was my nephew. Never saw him before, but he said he was; and now, now, I don't know what I shall do!" and the poor lady, suddenly bereft of her fortune, began to wipe her moist eyes; "but perhaps," she added, with a bright, though transient gleam of hope, "we are both aunts to him."

"That cannot be," said Nicholas, kindly, who left his aunt to set the company right, if possible. "My dear friend," he said, taking Mrs. Starkey's hand, "it has been a mistake, brought on by my heedlessness. I knew only that my aunt's name had been Eunice Brown. It chanced that yours was the same name. I happened to come upon you first in my search, and did not dream it possible that there could be two in the same court. Everything seemed to tally; and I was too pleased at finding the only relation I had in the wide world to ask many questions. But when I saw that my aunt knew who I was, and I saw my mother's features in hers, I perceived my mistake at once. We will remain friends, though,--shall we not?"

Mrs. Starkey was too much bewildered to refuse any compromise; but Mr. Manlius stepped forward, having his claim as a private officer of justice.

"I must still demand an explanation, Sir, how it is that in this mixed assembly the learned Doctor Chocker addresses you as Mr. Le Clear, and you do not decline the title"; and Mr. Manlius looked, as if for a witness, to Doctor Chocker, who was eating his cake with great solemnity, holding his ear-trumpet in hopes of catching an occasional word.

"That would require too long an explanation," said Nicholas, smiling; "but you shall have it some time in private. Mr. Le Clear himself will no doubt tell you"; which Mr. Le Clear, an amused spectator of the scene, cheerfully promised to do.

The company had been so stirred up by this revelation, that they came near retreating at once to Miss Pix's to talk it over, to the dismay of the four musical gentlemen, who had not yet been presented, and especially who had not yet got any cake. Miss Pix, though in a transport of joy, had an eye for everything, and, discovering this, insisted on presenting them in a body to Mrs. Blake, in consideration of her fatigue. They bowed simultaneously, and stood before her like bashful schoolboys; while Nicholas assumed the knife in behalf of his aunt, distributing with equal liberality, when they retired in high glee over the new version of his history, which Mr. Windgraff, for the sake of displaying his acumen, stoutly declared to be spurious. Gretchen also was served with a monstrous slice; and then the company bade good-bye to the aunt and nephew, who began anew their glad recognition.

It was a noisy set of people who left Miss Pix's house. That little lady stood in the doorway, and sent off each with such a merry blessing that it lasted long after the doors of the other houses were closed. Even the forlorn Mrs. Starkey seemed to go back almost as happy as when she had issued forth in the evening with her newly found nephew. The sudden gleam of hope which his unlooked-for coming had let in upon a toilsome and thankless life--for we know more about her position in Mr. Manlius's household than we have been at liberty to disclose--had, indeed, gone out in darkness; but the Christmas merriment, and the kindness which for one evening had flowed around her, had so fertilized one little spot in her life, that, however dreary her pilgrimage, nothing could destroy the bright oasis. It gave hope of others, too, no less verdant; and with this hope uppermost in her confused brain the lonely widow entered the land of Christmas dreams. Let us hope, too, that the pachydermatous Mr. Manlius felt the puncture of her disappointment, and that Miss Pix's genial warmth had made him cast off a little the cloak of selfishness in which he had wrapped himself; for what else could have made him say to his echoing wife that night, "Caroline, suppose we let Eunice take the children to the panorama to-morrow. It's a quarter more; but she was rather disappointed about that young fellow"? The learned Doctor Chocker, who had, in all his days, never found a place to compare with his crowded study for satisfaction to his soul, for the first time now, as he entered it, admitted to himself that Miss Pix's arbor-like parlor and Mrs. Blake's simple room had something that his lacked; and in the frozen little bedroom where he nightly shivered, in rigid obedience to some fancied laws of health, the old man was aware of some kindly influence thawing away the chill frost-work which he had suffered to sheathe his heart. Nor did Mr. Le Clear toast his slippered feet before his cheery fire without an uncomfortable misgiving that his philosophy hardly compassed the sphere of life.

Christmas-eve in the court was over. Strange things had happened; and, for one night at least, the Five Sisters had acted as one family. Little Miss Pix, reviewing the evening, as she dropped off to sleep, could not help rubbing her hands together, and emitting little chuckles. Such a delightful evening as she had had! and meaning to surprise others, she had herself been taken into a better surprise still; and here, recollecting the happy union of the lone, but not lonely, Mrs. Blake with a child of her old age, as it were, Miss Pix must laugh aloud just as the midnight clock was sounding. Bless her neighborly soul, she has ushered in Christmas-day with her laugh of good-will toward men. The whole hymn of the angels is in her heart; and with it let her sleep till the glorious sunshine awakes her.

ICE AND ESQUIMAUX.