Elfrida opened it and read:
“Enderby Castle, October 1, 186—
“My Dear and Only Sister: I have no apology to offer you for my long neglect of your regular letters, except that of the sad vis inertia of the confirmed invalid. That I know you will accept with charity and sympathy.
“I am lower in health, strength and spirits than ever before. I employ an amanuensis to write all my letters, except those to you.
“I shrink from having a stranger intermeddling with a correspondence between an only brother and sister, and so, because I was not able to write with my own hand, your letters have been unanswered.
“In none of them, however, have you mentioned any present or prospective establishment of any of your girls, except that, years ago, you spoke of an early, very early betrothal of your eldest daughter to a young naval officer. You have not alluded to that arrangement lately. Has that come to nothing? It was scarcely a match befitting one who will some day, should she live, be my successor here.
“Your girls must have grown up in all these years. Let us see. Odalite must be nineteen, Wynnette seventeen, and little Elva fifteen. Two of them, therefore, must be marriageable, according to Maryland notions. Write and tell me all about them. And tell me whether you will come into my views that I am about to open to you.
“I am lonely, very lonely, not having a near relative in the world, except yourself and your family. I want you all to come over and make me a long visit, and then try to make up your minds to the magnanimity of leaving one of your girls with me for so long as I may have to live; or, if one girl would feel lonesome, leave two, to keep each other company. You and your husband might be quite happy with one daughter at home.
“So I think. What do you?
“My plan may be only the selfish wish of a chronic sufferer, who is nearly always sure to be an egotist. Consult your husband, and write to me.