“Yah!”
“Have you heard from Master Dexter, Miss!” said Mrs Millett one morning.
“No, Millett, and I am rather surprised. He promised so faithfully to write.”
“Ah, yes, Miss,” said the old lady; “and he meant it, poor boy, when he promised, but boys are such one’s to forget.”
Helen went into the library where she found the doctor biting the end of his pen, and gazing up into a corner of the room.
“I don’t seem to be getting on as I could wish, my dear. By the way, we haven’t heard from that young dog lately. He promised me faithfully to write regularly.”
Helen thought of Mrs Millett’s words, but said nothing, and at that moment Maria entered with the letters.
“From Dexter?” said Helen eagerly.
“Humph! No! But from Longspruce! I see: from Mr Mastrum.”
The doctor read the letter and frowned.