“Father, are you going to open that letter or are you not? If you have no curiosity on the subject of an unknown hand I have. And—it’s a feminine hand too.”
Chapter Thirteen.
Manamandhla’s Beef.
“Yes, it’s a feminine hand,” he echoed, gazing critically on the envelope. “There’s character in it too. Now I wonder who the deuce it can be from.”
“Father, will you open it? Can’t you see I am dying with curiosity?”
“Now, I’m not—not one little bit,” he answered, delighted to tease her. “In fact I wouldn’t mind postponing the further investigation of this mysterious missive for at least a week. Letters in unknown hands are generally of that character. For the matter of that, only too often so are those in known ones.”
For answer she suddenly snatched the letter from his hand and tore it open. “There now. Will you read it?” she said, giving it back.
“Certainly.” Then as the name at the end caught his eyes, a whistle of surprise escaped him. His fun sobered down while he read: