“There’s a good deal of it, and it’s just a little confusing,” said Allonby.
Flora Schuyler glanced at Hetty, and then smiled at the lad. “That is certainly not complimentary,” she said. “Don’t you think Hetty and I could remember anything that you can?”
Allonby laughed. “Of course you could. But, I had my instructions. I was told to give Mr. Torrance the message as soon as I could, without troubling anybody.”
“Then it is of moment?”
“Yes. That is, we want him to know, though there’s really nothing in it that need worry anybody.”
“Then, it is unfortunate that my father is away,” said Hetty.
Allonby sat silent a moment or two, apparently reflecting, and then looked up suddenly, as though he had found the solution of the difficulty.
“I could write him.”
Hetty laughed. “That was an inspiration! You can be positively brilliant, Chris. You will find paper and special envelopes in the office, as well as a big stick of sealing-wax.”
Allonby, who appeared unable to find a neat rejoinder, went out; and when he left Flora Schuyler smiled as she saw the carefully fastened envelope lying on Torrance’s desk, as well as something else. Torrance was fastidiously neat, and the blotting pad from which the soiled sheets had been removed bore the impress of Christopher Allonby’s big, legible writing. It was, however, a little blurred, and Miss Schuyler, who had her scruples, made no attempt to read it then. It was the next afternoon, and Torrance had not yet returned, when a mounted man rode up to the Range, and was shown into the room where the girls sat together.