“You are both right,” Mr. Hamilton answered, drawing a letter from his coat pocket.  “It is a Round Robin from the Admiral and my son Tom, who have been making acquaintance in Hong Kong.  It is addressed: 

    “FROM THE YELLOW PERIL, IN CHINA

    “to

    “THE YELLOW HOUSE, IN BEULAH,

    “Greeting!”

Nancy crimsoned.  “Did the Admiral tell your son Tom I called him the Yellow Peril?  It was wicked of him!  I did it, you know, because you wrote me that the only Hamilton who cared anything for the old house, or would ever want to live in it, was your son Tom.  After that I always called him the Yellow Peril, and I suppose I mentioned it in a letter to the Admiral.”

“I am convinced that Nancy’s mind is always empty at bedtime,” said her mother, “because she tells everything in it to somebody during the day.  I hope age will bring discretion, but I doubt it.”

“My son Tom is coming home!” said his father, with unmistakable delight in his voice.

Nancy, who was passing the cake, sat down so heavily in her chair that everybody laughed.

“Come, come, Miss Nancy!  I can’t let you make an ogre of the boy,” urged Mr. Hamilton.  “He is a fine fellow, and if he comes down here to look at the old place you are sure to be good friends.”

“Is he going back to China after his visit?” asked Mrs. Carey, who felt a fear of the young man something akin to her daughter’s.

“No, I am glad to say.  Our family has been too widely separated for the last ten years.  At first it seemed necessary, or at least convenient and desirable, and I did not think much about it.  But lately it has been continually on my mind that we were leading a cheerless existence, and I am determined to arrange matters differently.”

Mrs. Carey remembered Ossian Popham’s description of Mrs. Lemuel Hamilton and forebore to ask any questions with regard to her whereabouts, since her husband did not mention her.

“You will all be in Washington then,” she said, “and your son Tom with you, of course?”

“Not quite so near as that,” his father replied.  “Tom’s firm is opening a Boston office and he will be in charge of that.  When do you expect the Admiral back?  Tom talks of their coming together on the Bedouin, if it can be arranged.”

“We haven’t heard lately,” said Mrs. Carey; “but he should return within a month or two, should he not, Nancy?  My daughter writes all the letters for the family, Mr. Hamilton, as you know by this time.”

“I do, to my great delight and satisfaction.  Now there is one thing I have not seen yet, something about which I have a great deal of sentiment.  May I smoke my cigar under the famous crimson rambler?”