She almost caught it from his hands as he picked it from the fender, and looked at the signature.
“Hale & Hale?” she read. “I never heard of them!”
“No, nor anyone else, I dare say,” answered Hector.
“Let us see the address at the top,” said Annie.
“There it is—Philpot Lane.”
“Where is that? I don’t believe there is such a place!”
“Oh, yes, there is; I’ve seen it—somewhere in the City, I believe. But let us read the letter. I saw only the figures. I confess I was foolish enough at first to fancy somebody had sent us five hundred pounds!”
“And why not?” cried Annie. “I am sure there’s no one more in want of it.”
“That’s just why not,” answered Hector. “Did you ever know a rich man leave his money to a poor relation? Oh, I hope it does not mean that my father is gone. He may have left us a trifle. Only he could not have had so much to leave to anybody. I know he loved you, Annie.”
In the meantime Annie had been doing the one sensible thing—reading the letter, and now she stood pondering it.