"I think it will do capitally. I don't think any better excuse could be made. But where will you have the box sent?"
"That is what we must settle together. It would not do to send it down to some little village, for if the address was unknown it might be sent back again."
"Yes; and if John Simcoe had any suspicions that the story was a false one he might go down there to make inquiries about Jane Clotworthy, and, finding no such name known there, and the box still lying at the station, his suspicion that he had been watched would become almost a certainty."
"I should think that Reading would be a good place to send to it. 'Jane Clotworthy, Luggage Office, Reading.' Then I could go down myself and ask for it, and could bring it up by the next train."
"Tom Roberts could do that, Netta; there is no reason why you should trouble about it."
"I think that I had better go myself. It is most unlikely that Simcoe would send down anyone to watch who took the box away, but if he should be very uneasy he might do so. He would be sure to describe me to anyone that he sent, so that it would be better that I should go myself."
"I think that your story is so plausible, Netta, that there is no risk whatever of his having any doubts about it, but still one cannot be too careful."
"Then I will wind up the letter.
"'Begging your pardon for having left you in the lurch so sudding. I remain, your obedient servant,
"'Jane Clotworthy.
"'P.S.—I am very sorry.
"'P.S.—Plese give my respects to Mr. Johnstone, and excuse blots.'"
Hilda burst into a fit of laughter as she glanced at the postscript.