"You may, if you like, my child; but, you know your father gave those old people money for their care of you."
"Yes, I know; but that's different. And I think they'd appreciate a letter."
"Very well, write one, if you like. Shall I help you?"
"No, thank you. King and I are going to do it together."
"What did you call it, Mops?" asked her brother, as she returned to the library, where he sat, awaiting her.
"A bread-and-butter letter; Mother says it's all right."
"Well, but you had other things to eat besides bread and butter."
"Yes, but that's just the name of it. Now, how would you begin it, King?"
"'Dear Mrs. Geary,' of course."
"Well, but I want it to be to him, too. He was real nice,—in his queer way. And if he hadn't looked after me, where would I have been?"