"I am going away from my childhood's home to make a fortune for all of you. My voice is my fortune. When I've made it I shall come back to you. So good-bye to you all, and may you be very happy always.
"Your loving daughter,
"Betty."
Mrs. Bruce put down her peach and said: "Read it again, will you, dear," in a quiet steady way as though she were trying to understand.
And Mr. Bruce read it again, and then passed it over to her to read for herself.
"She's somewhere close at hand, of course!" he said. "Silly child!"
"She couldn't go very far, could she?" asked Mrs. Bruce, seeking comfort.
Mr. Bruce shook his head.
"One never quite knows what Betty could do," he said. "She's gone to find her fortune, she says. I wonder now if that is her old crazy idea of hunting for a gold mine. No! 'My voice is my fortune,' she says. Good lord! Whom has she been talking to? What books has she been reading?"
Mrs. Bruce sighed and smiled. As no immediate danger seemed to threaten Betty, there appeared no reason for instant action. They could still take life leisurely, as they had done all their married days. It was only madcap Betty who ever tried to hurry their pace or upset the calm of their domestic sky—Betty with her ways and plans and pranks.
So Mrs. Bruce leaned back on the verandah post.