“You said you had a letter from Carol.”
“Yes.” Ogden took it from his pocket. “Don’t let your broth get cold. The letter has waited this long. A few minutes more won’t mean anything.”
“Oh, hers are always short. Let me have it.”
Hugh opened the letter and glanced over it frowningly. “Poor little Carol!” he exclaimed; then he read aloud to an absorbed listener:
Dear Hugh,
The end has come for Alfred. I am sure you will not be surprised to hear it. I have known for months it must come and have braced myself to bear it. I am glad he always let me know the inside of his affairs, and, from the time his illness started, I set myself to learn the business so I could take his place. Alfred’s partner, Mr. Ferry, I never wholly liked and trusted. I do not feel sure of his loyalty, and for the sake of my children I feel I must guard every step of my business way. I do not say this to trouble you, or make you feel you must come to me. You could not help me by coming, and it is a long, expensive journey. I promise to tell you if I see any definite cause for anxiety. Don’t worry about me, dear. I am well and so are both the children; but let me hear from you soon.
Your loving sister
Carol
Hugh looked up. John Ogden’s eyes were shining.