“Gone? Gone where? Caro, you don’t mean he’s—dead?”
“No, he’s gone—gone and left us.”
Her brother’s expression changed to incredulous joy.
“What?” he shouted. “You mean he’s quit? Cleared out? Left here for good?”
“Yes.”
“Hurrah! Excuse me while I gloat! Hurrah! We got it through his skull at last! Is it possible? But—but hold on! Perhaps it’s too good to be true. Are you sure? How do you know?”
“He says so. See.”
She handed him the letter. It was addressed to “My dear Caroline” and in it Captain Elisha stated his intentions succinctly. After the plain speaking of the previous evening he should not, of course, burden them with his society any longer. He was leaving that morning, and, as soon as he “located permanent moorings somewhere else” would notify his niece and nephew of his whereabouts.
“For,” he added, “as I told you, although I shall not impose my company on you, I am your guardian same as ever. I will see that your allowance comes to you regular, including enough for all household bills and pay for the hired help and so on. If you need any extras at any time let me know and, if they seem to me right and proper, I will send money for them. You will stay where you are, Caroline, and Stevie must go back to college right away. Tell him I say so, and if he does not I shall begin reducing his allowance according as I wrote him. He will understand what I mean. I guess that is all until I send you my address and any other sailing orders that seem necessary to me then. And, Caroline, I want you and Stevie to feel that I am your anchor to windward, and when you get in a tight place, if you ever do, you can depend on me. Last night’s talk has no bearing on that whatever. Good-by, then, until my next.
“ELISHA WARREN.”