"Why, I declare," cried Helen, "there's the postman!"
"The postman!" every one exclaimed at once.
Clarice felt quite sick with excitement. She had waited very patiently; but now, if that postman had not brought her a letter from Villiers, it would be too much.
Guy went to the door, and returned quickly.
Mr. Egerton, naturally enough, held out his hand for the letter.
"It is not for you, sir. It's for Clarice, 'Miss Clarice Egerton,' quite plain; but who wrote it, I can't imagine."
"I know; oh, I know! Give it to me quickly."
She tore it open and glanced through it. Then she let it fall, and threw her arms round Guy, who had knelt beside her to look at the letter.
"Guy," she sobbed out, "it has come! You have got what we asked for. I knew we should, if we had patience. But, oh, what shall I do without you?"
"Clarice dear, what do you mean? I don't understand it at all."