“Let’s see, this one looks interesting, mighty interesting.” He lingered over the address. “But the writing isn’t very clear.”
Alice reached for it as though to help him out. He raised his arm high. “No, it’s not for you,” he shook his head at her. “This mailman always delivers his mail to the proper person. Now, stand back all of you, while I look again.”
“This is as bad or worse than it is at school when they distribute mail, isn’t it?” Laura nudged Nan. “But look, isn’t the old duck getting a kick out of it all?”
Nan nodded. There was only one thing that she was really impatient about. She wanted to know now, right away, whether there was any word from Rhoda. She felt as though she couldn’t stand it a moment longer not to know.
“Please, Cousin Adair,” she begged, “is there anything there at all from Rhoda?”
“Yes, father, tell us quickly,” Alice chimed in.
“Oh, I’m sorry,” Adair MacKenzie was immediately all contrition. “H-m-m, wait.” He leafed quickly through the pack.
“Yes, there is something,” he admitted at last. “It’s addressed to Nan.” With this he handed a yellow telegram over to her. “Take it easily,” he advised, while they all waited anxiously for Nan to open it. She tore the seal, pulled the message out, dropped it in her nervousness, and then when it was restored to her hands, read it slowly to herself.
At long last she looked up. “It’s—” she caught her breath before she could continue—“all right. Rhoda’s mother is going to get well.” Saying this, she passed the telegram over to Bess and Laura, and then, before she realized at all what was happening, her eyes welled up with tears.
“Why, Nan, darling!” Alice exclaimed, “don’t cry. Everything’s all right now. Come,” she drew from her own purse a pretty white handkerchief and wiped Nan’s tears away, “you’ll have us all in tears.”