"And another thing," Farnsworth was saying, "I want to know why you have had no letters from your father since I asked to see one,—that was two or three weeks ago!"
"I have had one," Azalea answered, sullenly, "I had one this morning."
"Let me see it," demanded Bill, and Azalea went up to her own room and returned with the letter.
There was no envelope on it, and Farnsworth opened the folded sheet and read:
MY DEAR CHILD:
I received your last letter and I am very glad you are having such a nice time. It must be very pleasant at the grand house where you are staying,—and I suppose you are getting grand too. I am very lonesome without you, but I am willing, for I want you to have a good time and get improvement and all that. Remember me kindly to Cousin William and his wife. I like to hear you tell about the baby. She must be a fine child. I am well, and I hope you are, too. With much affection, from your loving
FATHER.
"Where's the envelope?" asked Farnsworth, as he raised an unsmiling face to Azalea.
"I tore it up."
"Why?"