Now it would be very easy for us to peep over Archie's shoulder and read what he was writing, but that would be rude; anything rather than rudeness and impoliteness. Rather, for instance, let us take a voyage across the wide, terribly wide ocean, to pay a visit to Burley Old Farm, and wait till the letter comes.
* * * * * *
"I wonder," said Elsie with a gentle sigh, and a long look at the fire, "when we may expect to hear from Archie again. Dear me, what a long, long time it is since he went away! Let me see, Rupert, it is going on for six years, isn't it?"
"Yes. Archie must be quite a man by now."
"He's all right," said the Squire.
"That he is, I know," said Uncle Ramsay.
"He's in God's good hands," said the mother, but her glasses were so moist she had to take them off to wipe them; "he is in God's good hands, and all we can do now is to pray for him."
Two little taps at the green-parlour door and enter the maid, not looking much older, and not less smart, than when last we saw her.
"If you please, sir, there's a gentleman in the study as would like to see you."
"Oh," she added, with a little start, "here he comes!"