She hung up the receiver and turned with a shrug but Betty saw that her lips were white.
"My broker," she remarked, with studied carelessness. "Conscientious man, but not resourceful. By the way, my dear, I neglected to tell you that you need never answer this telephone. It is my own private wire. Call me if it rings when I am at home, but pay no attention to it if I am not here."
"I am sorry—" began Betty, but the other silenced her.
"It is of no consequence. We will take up the letters now. You did not find them difficult?"
"No-o," Betty responded hesitatingly. "There is one, however, which I could not understand at all. It seems to be a business matter, but the wording doesn't make any sense; it's something about sheep."
"Sheep?" Mrs. Atterbury's level tones sharpened. "Where is the envelope? Was there no cross upon it?"
"No. At least I didn't see any, and I am quite sure I looked carefully. This is the one."
"Idiot!" The ejaculation was clearly not intended for the girl, as Mrs. Atterbury looked vainly for the distinguishing mark, and filliped the envelope angrily aside. "Give me the letter, please."
She glanced over it rapidly, without comment or change of expression and put it on the little heap of private letters.
"We will get rid of the social ones first—" she was beginning, when Betty suddenly interrupted her.