“Nothing,” I replied, “except—except this—my search is over.”
I held up the thick packet to her. She half screamed, and called the two Valentines to look. “Read it, Rosamund, read it,” she said. “Read the contents of that letter quickly, dear Rosamund.”
“No,” I answered, “I could not take in the words now, my head aches, my hands shake, I am tired—I am very, very tired. I must read the words written to me inside this thick envelope when I am alone.”
“Oh, but that is too bad. We are consumed with curiosity. Won’t you open the envelope? Won’t you read just a few words to satisfy us that you are really the heir.”
“I may be as little the heir as you, Lady Ursula. The packet with my name on the cover proves nothing. But I am agitated—perhaps it is with hope. I should be glad to be Cousin Geoffrey’s heir, for I am tired of great poverty. I am not a bit ashamed to say this; but I cannot read the letter which either confirms or destroys my hopes in the presence of any one else.”
Lady Ursula looked annoyed. Captain Valentine also plainly expressed a sense of disappointment on his face, but my cousin Tom heartily approved my resolution.
“You are right,” he said; “we will all go away. You shall read your letter in peace.”
“You need not go away,” I said. “I am going myself. I will not read this letter until I get home. Now I must lock these drawers and return the keys to Mr Gray.”
“And you will be sure to write at once and tell us the news, Rosamund,” said Lady Ursula.
“Better still,” exclaimed Captain Valentine, “let us meet here to-morrow. Let Miss Lindley tell us the contents of Cousin Geoffrey’s letter in person.”