The Frenchman remained silent for a moment.
"Well?" prompted the ex-captain of territorials. "You said there were three."
"I have put the other on the table beside you," said the Frenchman. "It is intime. The stamp from America. The handwriting of a lady. You will read it yourself when you are able."
"Able!" echoed Captain Francis Newcombe, with sudden asperity. "I won't be able to do anything for another week, let alone read. Open it! You know damned well it's only from my ward in America. And since I'm going out there as soon as I'm fit again, I'm rather keen to know what her immediate plans are. She was going to a school friend's home for the summer. I've explained to you before that her mother did a rather big thing for me once, and I'm trying to repay the debt. Open it, and read it to me. There's nothing private about it."
"But, certainly!" agreed the Frenchman, as he opened the letter. "It is only that you are both young, and that the thought crossed my mind you—"
"Read the letter!" snapped Captain Francis Newcombe. "If there's any enclosure for her mother, you can lay that aside."
"There is no enclosure," returned the Frenchman good-humouredly. "Well, then, listen! I read:
The Corals,
Manwa Island, Florida Keys,
Tuesday, June 30th.
DEAR GUARDY:
You knew, of course, I was going to visit Dora Marlin and her father, Mr. Jonathan P. Marlin, this summer, so you won't be altogether surprised at the above address. You see, we came here a little sooner than I expected, so that your last letter, forwarded on from New York, has just reached me.