He was wondering what he must do with himself during the long vacation.
He was tired of the Continent, he was lonely in England; and the United
States had not then become the great playground for earth's weary or
curious children.
Many times the idea of seeking out his own relations occurred to him. He
had promised his father to do so. But, as a rule, people haven't much
enthusiasm about unknown relations; and Julius regarded his promise more
in the light of a duty to be performed than as the realization of a
pleasure. Still, on that dreary night, in the solitary dulness of his
very respectable inn, the Sandals, Lockerbys, and Piersons became three
possible sources of interest. While his thoughts were drifting in this
direction, the squire's letter was received; and the young man, who was
something of a fatalist, accepted it as the solution of a difficulty.
"Sandal turns the new leaf for me," he murmured; "the new leaf in the
book of life. I wonder what story will be written in it."
He answered the invitation while the enthusiasm of its reception swayed
him, and he promised to follow the letter immediately. The squire
received this information on Saturday night, as he was sitting with his
wife and daughters. "Your nephew Julius Sandal, from Calcutta, is coming
to pay us a visit, Alice," he said; and his air was that of a man who
thinks he is communicating a piece of startling intelligence.
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