“You are all spoiling me,” he said, as Gilbert and he went upstairs to bed. “I am beginning to understand the charms of home. To go out into the world from here will be like taking a cold shower bath.”
“Never forget, Carl, that you will be welcome back, whenever you feel like coming,” said Gilbert, laying his band affectionately on Carl’s shoulder. “We all like you here.”
“Thank you, old fellow! I appreciate the kindness I have received here; but I must strike out for myself.”
“How do you feel about it, Carl?”
“I hope for the best. I am young, strong and willing to work. There must be an opening for me somewhere.”
The next morning, just after breakfast, a letter arrived for Carl, mailed at Edgewood Center.
“Is it from your father?” asked Gilbert.
“No; it is in the handwriting of my stepmother. I can guess from that that it contains no good news.”
He opened the letter, and as he read it his face expressed disgust and annoyance.
“Read it, Gilbert,” he said, handing him the open sheet.