Young, healthy, in easy circumstances, entirely congenial in opinions and
tastes, they were a very happy couple.
Lester was meeting with marked success in his chosen profession--had
received only yesterday a large price for one of his paintings; and as
Elsie and he were essentially one in all their interests, her joy was
fully equal to his, if not greater.
In consequence they were unusually gay this morning, and life seemed very
bright and beautiful before them.
They lingered over their meal, and were just leaving the table when a
servant came in with the morning's mail.
There were several newspapers and magazines; only one letter.
"From Eric, dear old boy! I was intending to write to him to-day,"
remarked Lester, as he examined the superscription.
"How nice, then, that his came just in time for you to answer it in
yours," said Elsie. "I'll leave you to the enjoyment of it while I give
my orders for the day," she added, turning from him toward the rear of
the house, as they left the breakfast-room together.
"Yes, my dear, and when you have a spare moment to bestow upon your
unworthy husband, you will find him on the veranda," he answered lightly,
bending his steps in that direction.
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