"I—am Octavia B-bassett," she said. "We were coming to surp-prise you, and travel in Europe; but the mines went wrong, and p-pa was obliged to go back to Nevada."
"The mines?" gasped Miss Belinda.
"S-silver-mines," wept Octavia. "And we had scarcely landed when Piper cabled, and pa had to turn back. It was something about shares, and he may have lost his last dollar."
Miss Belinda sank into a chair herself.
"Mary Anne," she said faintly, "bring me a glass of water."
Her tone was such that Octavia removed her handkerchief from her eyes, and sat up to examine her.
"Are you frightened?" she asked, in some alarm.
Miss Belinda took a sip of the water brought by her handmaiden, replaced the glass upon the salver, and shook her head deprecatingly.
"Not exactly frightened, my dear," she said, "but so amazed that I find it difficult to—to collect myself."
Octavia put up her handkerchief again to wipe away a sudden new gush of tears.