"Read it."
"'Dear Friend,'" read Miss Knowlton noting all Fetzer's peculiarities of style. "'I take my pen in hand'—it is a pencil by the way—'to say that my prayers are answered and he is gone to where there is no more sin and sorrow. He made a good end'—italics—'I heard of your troubles, but we all must bear troubles, that is God's law. I suppose your holiday is over—anyhow, I will be at my old stand when you come back. Yours respect.'—period—'Mrs. James Fetzer.'"
"My holiday! Does Fetzer think I'm off on a holiday?"
Miss Knowlton looked at him, her long, homely face beaming with encouragement.
"Aren't you? She expects you to go back and get to work."
"She does, does she?"
"There isn't any reason why you shouldn't."
He looked at Miss Knowlton and grinned.
"I'll bet you and Salter and Fetzer and all the rest are in cahoot."
"When shall we go?" asked Miss Knowlton, trembling and believing, poor Miss Knowlton! that she was taking the first step toward her throne.