“I suppose so. He just wants to know if we are alive, of course.”
“H’m. Some town in Michigan. I can’t make out the postmark.”
“He gives the full address inside. It’s Detroit.”
Carolyn, unhurried, in spite of her calm of being so curious, drew the letter from its envelope, remarking that the Don had gotten nice stationery for his letter to Betty. It “looked serious,” she thought.
“Nonsense,” returned Betty. “Hurry up and read it, Carolyn.”
No criticism could have been made of the form of this letter, written in a firm and flowing hand. After the matter of address and date and the more formal beginning, in which Betty was addressed as Miss Lee, the letter ran as follows:
“After so long a time, perhaps you have forgotten me. I was very sorry to leave the city so suddenly, but it was necessary, in regard to my private affairs, which I am not able to confide to my friends. A letter called me away. I packed, arranged with my landlady and the man for whom I worked and left on the next train. I took my books and I am trying to educate myself a little now that I am working here. I read the best that the libraries have to offer. Perhaps I shall be able to go to school some time again, but it is uncertain, like my residence here.
“So many times I have thought of the kind gentleman, Mr. Lee, whose car I sometimes fixed, of the sweet mother and the golden Betty that made a lonely boy welcome on a holiday. And so I write at last to tell them that I have not forgotten and to ask if I will be welcome to call some day when I can return.
“I shall be so glad if you can write to tell me how you have passed these long months and if your family is well. I have hesitated to write to your father, who is so busy with important things, but I thought that in your kindness you would be willing to answer this letter.
“Please give my greetings to any of the high school friends who remember me. It is a very vivid memory of one of the happiest times I ever had that makes me write this at the near approach of the same holiday.