“Then I accept your offer of your brother’s services, with thanks,” he said, taking a letter from his pocket and giving it to her. “Please ask him to carry this at once to the post-office, and see that it gets into the mail; then inquire for letters for Captain L. Raymond, Master Max, and Miss Lulu Raymond.”
“I will, sir,” she replied, taking the letter and hurrying from the room with it.
A few minutes later a boy who looked to be two or three years younger than Marian came briskly in and, laying a handful of letters on the table beside the captain, said, “Several for you, sir, and one apiece for Master and Miss. And the one I took for you is gone with the rest o’ the mail for the East.”
“I am much obliged,” the captain said, putting a dime into his hand.
The boy glanced down at it. “That’s too much, sir, by half, the errand wasn’t worth a nickel, and in fact I didn’t expect any pay for doing it.”
“Then take the dime as a gift, my boy; I like your honesty,” returned the captain.
“Thank you, sir,” responded the lad heartily, and with a grin of satisfaction, as he turned and hastened away again.
“Papa, is there one for me?” asked Lulu, as her father took up the letters and glanced at the superscriptions.
“Yes, daughter; and one for Max. But as we have all finished eating we will go to our room to read them.”
The letters brought only good news; the dear ones left behind were all well, and, though missing the absentees, content and happy, at least so far as could be gathered from the cheerful tone of their epistles.