'Now, mamma,' said Katie, 'if you laugh once while you are reading it, you'll spoil it all.'
'I'll do the best I can, my dear, but I'm sure I shall break down; you have made it so very abusive,' said Mrs. Woodward.
'Mamma, I think I'll take out that about official priggism—hadn't I better, Linda?'
'Indeed, I think you had; I'm sure mamma would break down there,' said Linda. 'Mamma, I'm sure you would never get over the official priggism.'
'I don't think I should, my dear,' said Mrs. Woodward.
'What is it you are all concocting?' said Captain Cuttwater; 'some infernal mischief, I know, craving your pardons.'
'If you tell, Uncle Bat, I'll never forgive you,' said Katie.
'Oh, you may trust me; I never spoil sport, if I can't make any; but the fun ought to be very good, for you've been a mortal long time about it.'
And then the two younger ladies again went on clipping and arranging their papers, while Mrs. Woodward renewed her protest that she would do her best as to reading their production. While they were thus employed the postman's knock was heard, and a letter was brought in from the far-away Australian exiles. The period at which these monthly missives arrived were moments of intense anxiety, and the letter was seized upon with eager avidity. It was from Gertrude to her mother, as all these letters were; but in such a production they had a joint property, and it was hardly possible to say who first mastered its contents.
It will only be necessary here to give some extracts from the letter, which was by no means a short one. So much must be done in order that our readers may know something of the fate of those who perhaps may be called the hero and heroine of the tale. The author does not so call them; he professes to do his work without any such appendages to his story—heroism there may be, and he hopes there is—more or less of it there should be in a true picture of most characters; but heroes and heroines, as so called, are not commonly met with in our daily walks of life.