THE RESPONSE.
MAIMIE wrote and posted her letter within half-an-hour. Then she came to me, carrying a scrawled pencil-copy, which she placed in my hand.
“I thought it best not to show you the real letter before I sent it off,” she said. “Please read this, Aunt Marion.”
And I read, not without surprise:—
“DEAR FATHER,—I begin to think you have forgotten me.
It is so very long since you have been to the house.”
“I want very much to see you now—very much indeed—to
ask you a question. Please come and see me. If you
cannot come here, then I will come to you. Aunt Briscoe
cannot really be afraid of infection now. It must be