On the table by the matron's side were some faded old letters—quite a bundle of them, in fact—tied with a faded tape. They were docketed carefully on their ends with ink that had yellowed with age.
"These are letters from my uncle—'Lemon' Aden, as our little Dot called him," Mrs. Eland said, with a sad smile. "To my—my poor father. Those letters he put into my hand to take care of when we knew that awful fire that destroyed most of our city, was going to sweep away our home.
"I took the letters and Teeny by the hand——"
"Was Teeny your sister's name, Mrs. Eland?" asked Tess, deeply interested.
"So we called her," the matron said. "She was such a little fairy! As small and delicate as Dot, here. Only she was light—a regular milk-and-rose complexion and with red-gold hair."
"Like Tess' teacher's hair?" asked Dot, curiously. "She's got red hair."
"Oh, goodness!" cried Tess, "she's not pretty. That's sure, if her hair is red!"
"Teeny's hair was lovely," said Mrs. Eland, ruminatively. "I can remember just how she looked. I was but four years older than she; but I was a big girl."
"You mean when that awful fire came?" asked Tess.
"Yes, my dear. Father told me to take care of these letters; they were important. And to keep tight hold of Teeny's hand."