"I know," went on the lady, "that it was Rodney himself who named him, but—"
"Come, now, marmer," the boy interrupted, impatiently, "you always say that."
"Here's a letter from Prudence at last."
It was the girl who spoke, now looking up at her mother.
"Read it to me, dear," was the response. But it was some moments before the mother and son could finish the altercation now entered into as to who should have charge of the ring until such time as it could be returned to the owner.
Mrs. Ffolliott succeeded in gaining permission, Leander perceiving that the article would be safer in her care. But he cautioned her not to expect any share of the reward.
Then he walked out of sight to some region momentarily unknown to his parent, and peace reigned on the piazza.
Mrs. Ffolliott sat down in the chair and placidly waited.
Carolyn stood leaning against the wall of the house. The open letter hung from her hand.