“Good girl; good girl!” said the Major. “Well, if he asks me to give him my blessing on such a match, you may be quite sure I shall do so. But we must await events; things cannot be hurried; the girl is very young.”
“She is indeed,” said Colonel Arbuthnot; “nothing more than a child.”
It was on the next day that the girls received a letter from Mr Timmins. It was addressed to Miss Heathcote, and was sealed with a large red seal. It had a thick and massive appearance, and caused Mrs Fortescue pangs of intense curiosity as she handled it before her young charges came downstairs to breakfast. There was no other letter that morning, so she was able to turn it round and look at the seal, which bore the inscription of “Timmins and Co, Solicitors, Chancery Lane,” and also to feel the bulk of the epistle. It was a long envelope, and Mrs Fortescue felt absolutely devoured with curiosity with regard to the contents. To open, however, a sealed envelope was an impossibility, and she did not dare even to attempt the work.
She was seated quietly in front of her copper urn when the girls came in.
“Well, my dears,” she said; “how are you? I hope you have slept well.”
“Capitally, thank you,” said Brenda; and then her eyes flew to her plate, and she saw the long letter lying on it. She turned a little pale, and a swift contraction went through her heart.
Florence, however, did not even glance at the letter. She danced into the room in her usually gay and sprightly manner and sat down, saying as she did so—
“Oh, I am so hungry. I do hope that we have something very nice for breakfast.”
“You know I always think of your tastes, dears,” said Mrs Fortescue, who felt more than ever inclined to pet the girls that morning. “I have got the most delicious kippers and that special porridge with cream which you like so much. There will be hot cakes afterwards, so I hope you will have enough to eat.”
“Oh yes, yes!” said Florence. “Am I not hungry!”