"And didn't you?" asked Dot, to whose thoroughly Sunday-school-trained mind, all punishment directly followed disobedience.
"Oh, yes. I did as he told me. He went back into the house to get mother. She was an invalid, you know."
"Like Mrs. Buckham," suggested Tess.
A spasm of pain crossed the hospital matron's face, and she turned away for a moment. After a little she continued her story.
"And then the fire came so suddenly that it swallowed the house right up!"
"Oh!" gasped Dot.
"I'm so sorry, Mrs. Eland," whispered Tess, patting her arm.
"It was very dreadful," said the gray lady, softly. "Teeny and I were grabbed up by some men in a wagon, and the horses galloped us away to safety. But our poor mother and father were buried in the ruins of the house."
"And you saved the letters?" said Tess.
"But lost Teeny," said Mrs. Eland, sadly. "There was such confusion in the camp of the refugees that many families were separated. By and by I came East—and I brought these letters. But—but they do me no good now. I can prove nothing by them. 'Corroborative evidence,' so the lawyers say, is lacking——