"You are blue, Sarah. Forget the boy and you will feel better," said James Talbot, and receiving no answer to this, he walked away.
"Forget Robert! forget my only child!" thought Mrs. Talbot. "Never! Oh, if I only knew where I could write to him!"
On the day following Mrs. Talbot had occasion to call at Joel Blarcomb's store to order a number of groceries for the house.
"I hope you got good news from Robert," said the postmaster, after she had given her order.
"Good news?" she repeated, in bewilderment. "I haven't any news, Mr. Blarcomb."
"Oh, then that Chicago letter wasn't from him?"
"What Chicago letter?"
"The one I gave to Mr. Talbot yesterday. I felt certain it was your son's handwriting on the envelope."
"He gave me no letter," answered the lady, and then a sudden fear came into her heart that made her feel faint. Had her husband received a letter from her son and destroyed it?
"No, no, he would not be so cruel," she thought.