A week had gone when one day at breakfast Mrs. Ffolliott remarked that she had almost a good mind to worry.
Her daughter looked at her questioningly, and Leander, with his mouth full, said that "Marmer'd rather give a dollar any time than miss a worry."
But marmer took no notice of her son; she continued to gaze at Carolyn, with her brows wrinkled.
"Prudence, you know," she went on. "She said she might come any minute."
"I suppose she changed her mind."
"Perhaps. But I've been dreaming about her; I thought she was drowned, and when I told you, Caro, you laughed, and said it was a good thing. I was so shocked I—but, good heavens! Caro, what makes you look like that?"
"Like what?"
"Why, just as you did in my dream,—that same light in your eyes—"
"Mamma!" broke in the girl, angrily. But she did not say anything more.
At that moment a servant came into the room with a salver in her hand, and on the salver lay a yellow telegraph envelope.