CONTENTS

CHAPTER PAGE
I. [The Tenth of March ]1
II. [The Wrong at his Door ]19
III. [The Next Day ]32
IV. [The Feltons ]50
V. [The Naming ]68
VI. [As it was Written ]83
VII. [Into the Dark ]101
VIII. [Sanctuary ]116
IX. [The Mystery of the Name ]134
X. [Philip ]154
XI. [Incognita ]172
XII. [Friendship? ]192
XIII. [The Turning ]213
XIV. [A Proposal ]231
XV. [Night and Morning ]251
XVI. [Out of the Ashes ]267
XVII. [Daddy! ]284
XVIII. [The Scar on the Hand ]305
XIX. [John Angus ]318
XX. [On the Wings of the Morning ]337

POPPEA OF THE POST-OFFICE

CHAPTER I

THE TENTH OF MARCH

The six-thirty New York mail was late. So late that when the tall clock that faced the line of letter-boxes boomed eight, the usual hour for closing, Oliver Gilbert, the postmaster, ceased his halting tramp up and down the narrow length of the office, head and ears thrown forward in the attitude of a listening hunting-dog. Going to the door, he pulled it back with a nervous jerk and peered into the night.

As he did so, he was followed by a dozen men of various ages and social conditions, who, in waiting for the evening mail, the final social event of their day, had been standing about the stove, or, this choice space being limited, overflowed into the open room at the back of the post-office, with its work bench, chairs, and battered desk, topped by book shelves; for, in addition to his official position, the postmaster was a maker and mender of clocks and the Scribe for all those in the village of Harley's Mills who could not safely navigate the whirlpools of spelling.

In fact, a smattering of law, coupled with the taste for random browsing in every old book on which he could lay his hands, had given Gilbert the ability to draw up a will, a promissory note, or round an ardent yet decorous love-letter, with equal success.