“From Jo,” informed Betty—“The Bulletin,” as her father was wont to call her. “He came just after Uncle Kurt started for town.”
Pen smiled as she took up the little stiff nosegay. She held it lightly for a moment, looking down at the blossoms. There was a mute appeal in the little messengers from the boyish lover. Something infinitely tender stirred in her heart for a second, bringing a tear to her eye, as she mused upon his boyish faith in love.
She put the flowers in the glass of water beside her plate, and gave her attention to the prattle of the children.
After breakfast she pinned the little nosegay to her middy and went down to the pergola.
Jo saw her coming and hurried forward to meet her, his eyes brightening when he saw the flowers.
“Thank you, Jo. They are very pretty.”
“Thank you for wearing them.”
“I asked you to come here this morning, Jo, so you would do me a favor.”
“You know I would.”
“Will you mail this letter for me? I wrote it last night after you left, and you are the only one I can trust. And—Jo—will you please not read the address?”