"I'll be back directly, father."
"Mind you are not long," ordered the Colonel.
Dorothea smiled, and stepped away. She had not quite given up hope of a line from Craye, though expectation was growing dim; but when the post came she was still on the alert.
This afternoon, her hopes and expectations were rewarded. A registered letter was handed in, addressed to herself. Dorothea signed the receipt, and after a moment's hesitation went into the dining-room, where she lit a candle.
Yes, there was the Craye postmark! Dorothea's first impulse was to rush upstairs; but she resisted that impulse, and opened the envelope.
Within she found another envelope, addressed to her father, and also a half-sheet of paper written across.
"MY DEAR MISS TRACY,—If you think your father well enough,
pray give him the enclosed. It may do him good by enabling him
to meet the difficulties you mention."
"I am very glad you wrote. Will not you and your father come
to see us here?—Yours sincerely,"
"J. ERSKINE."
Enable Colonel Tracy to meet his difficulties? What could it mean?
Dorothea flew upstairs, for once forgetting to move softly. She threw open the drawing-room door, with glowing cheeks.
"O father—"