"Yes, sir, very well; at least I went half way to the post, when Mr. Walter Johnson overtook me on his bay horse, and stopped me to ask how Miss Grant was, and seeing the letter in my hand, he offered to drop it in the box for me as he rode by the post office. So as it was such a wet day I let him take it. Did I do wrong?"
"Well, I don't quite know, but never mind, it saved you a drag in the wet, anyhow."
The maid left the room, and then I gave it as my opinion that Walter Johnson had never posted the letters, and that to-morrow I would interview him on the subject.
Alec was like a fish out of water at all this "high-bobaree," as he called it; but we now quieted down and spent a very happy evening together, with one or two neighbours, who having heard of my return, called in to pay their compliments.
That night I tossed and turned about feverishly, as my home-coming experience had been so strange, that I could do nothing but think and dream of it.
Walter Johnson was ever before me, and the more I thought of him and his underhand behaviour, the more I seemed to hate him, till at last I felt in quite a frenzy against him. I vowed to myself that in the morning I would see him, and if I could force him to confess his dastardly behaviour in not posting the letters to me, and in making love covertly to my affianced bride, I would thrash him soundly. My only fear was that I should do him some permanent bodily injury if he sneered at me, or in any way tried to ignore my right to put certain questions to him.
Towards morning my plans of vengeance were arrested by slumber, of which I was greatly in need.
