“He doesn’t say.”
“No address on the sheet?”
“No,” Maimie said very low, and she gave the letter first to me, then to Robert.
“Well, my dear,” he said cheerfully, handing it back; “it is very evident that Churton means you to belong to us for the present.”
“It isn’t right,” she whispered.
“Bosh!” cried Jack, who had grown radiant. “As if we could ever bear to part with you!”
She really did smile then, and it was not a sad smile.
“But he might have told me a little more of his plans,” she said.
“You need never trouble yourself with thinking what a man 'might have’ done,” said Aunt Briscoe. “It’s sheer waste of time. They just care to please themselves, and that’s all.”
Maimie glanced at my husband, and shook her head.