“And—oh, Betty, what? He has never referred to it since; and tell me, what did William say?”
“He requested him not to see you or communicate with you till your father’s permission could be obtained.”
Lettice heaved a deep sigh. “And what did he say?”
“He promised, but asked that you might know; so, as William had no liking to tell you himself, he asked me to do it. So there—my disagreeable task is over. Do you forgive me for my part in it?”
“I thank you for your gentle way of telling me, and I would rather have heard it from you than from William.”
“Thank you, dear. Now, never mind, my honey, just bide your time. For myself, I like Mr. Ellicott Baldwin mightily. Don’t you miss poor Lutie, when it comes to a matter of toilet?” she asked, to change the subject.
“Yes, poor Lutie, I do miss her. Ah, Betty dear, you are truly like my own sister. You understand so well, and I like better to be with you than any one. Alas, where will be our home?”
“I wouldn’t bother over that. Let the future take care of itself. ‘Sufficient unto the day is the evil thereof,’ you know. You have seen evil enough, poor Letty. Good night and sweet dreams;” and she left Lettice to think over all this new situation.
Volunteers were tramping into the city; preparations were going forward for a brave defence, and when Lettice laid her head upon her pillow, it was to dream of future alarms and start up more than once with a little cry. Once Betty heard her and came in to bend gently over her. “She is only dreaming, poor little soul,” she murmured. “What a peck of trouble she has had, to be sure.”
The morning seemed to realize Lettice’s dreams, for Danny came in, his eyes rolling around in excitement. “M-m-miss Letty, dey done comed, dey done comed!” he stammered.