It was a very neat package, wrapped in fine paper and sealed with red wax. Patsy turned it over once or twice, and then broke the wax and untied the cord.
A bunch of keys fell out first—seven of them, strung on a purple ribbon—and then a flat, impressive looking letter was discovered.
The Major stared open-mouthed. Uncle John leaned back in his chair and watched the girl's face.
"There's a mistake," said Patsy, quite bewildered. Then she read her name upon the wrapper, quite plainly written, and shook her head. "It's for me, all right. But what does it mean?"
"Why not read the letter?" suggested the Major.
So she opened the big envelope and unfolded the stiff paper and read as follows:
"Miss Patricia Doyle, Becker's Flats, Duggan Street, New York. Dear Miss Doyle: An esteemed client of our house, who desires to remain unknown, has placed at your disposal the furnished apartments 'D,' at 3708 Willing Square, for the period of three years, or as long thereafter as you may care to retain them. Our client begs you to consider everything the apartments contain as your own, and to use it freely as it may please you. All rentals and rates are paid in advance, and you are expected to take possession at once. Moreover, our firm is commanded to serve you in any and every way you may require, and it will be our greatest pleasure to be of use to you. The keys to the apartments are enclosed herewith.
"Most respectfully,
"Isham, Marvin & Co."
Having read this to the end, in a weak voice and with many pauses,
Miss Patricia Doyle sat down in her chair with strange abruptness and
stared blankly at her father. The Major stared back. So did Uncle
John, when her eyes roved toward his face.