Again it was she who made the discovery.
"That must be it," she said. "His ash tray is cleaned out every morning."
It was a large, brass tray and in it was the char of a paper that had been burned. This ash still lay in its folds and across its surface, black on black, could be seen a few lines which resembled the close of a letter.
"Can you read it?" she asked.
Miss Cordelia bent over, and as a new angle of light struck the tray, the words became as legible as though they had just been written.
"I thought I knew the writing," whispered Miss Cordelia, and lowering her voice until her sister had to hang breathless upon the movement of her lips, she added "Oh, Patty … We all thought he was dead … No wonder it killed poor Josiah …"
Their arms went around each other. Their glances met.
"I know," whispered Miss Patty, her lips suddenly gone dry, "….It was from Paul…!"
CHAPTER XI
For the first few months after her father's death, Mary's dreams seemed to fade into mist.