“Who’s it for, Mill?” asked Blanche, impatiently.
“Father,” replied Millie, still intent on her study. “It’s a foreign letter. I seem to remember the writing, too, only I can’t fix it exactly.”
“’Ere, ’and it over, my gel,” said Gosling, and Millie reluctantly parted with her fascinating enigma.
“I know that ’and, too,” remarked Gosling, and he, also, would have spent some time in the attempt to guess the puzzle without looking up the answer within the envelope, but the three spectators, who were not sharing his interest, manifested impatience.
“Well, ain’t you going to open it, father?” asked Millie, and Mrs Gosling looked at her husband over her spectacles and remarked, “It must be a business letter, if it comes from foreign parts.”
“Don’t get business letters to this address,” returned the head of the house, “besides which it’s from Warsaw; we don’t do nothin’ with Warsaw.”
At last he opened the letter.
The three women fixed their gaze on Gosling’s face.
“Well?” ejaculated Millie, after a silence of several seconds. “Aren’t you going to tell us?”
“You’d never guess,” said Gosling triumphantly.