“Yours,
“Tom.”
When Mildred read this letter she made up her mind to go home at any cost, and would have done so, if on her return from Naples she had not been stricken down with a malarial fever, which kept her an invalid for months, and when she recovered from it there had come into her life a new excitement which absorbed every other thought, and led finally to a result without which this story would never have been written.
CHAPTER IV.
AT THE FARM HOUSE.
It was fifteen years since Milly Leach sat shelling peas on the doorstep where now two young girls were sitting, one listening to and the other reading a letter which evidently excited and agitated her greatly. It was as follows:
“Langham’s, London, May —, 18—.
“Dear Alice,—You will probably be surprised to hear that I am going to be married to a Miss Fanny Gardner, whom I first met in Florence. She is twenty-seven or twenty-eight, and the most beautiful woman I ever saw, and good as she is beautiful. You are sure to like her. The ceremony takes place at —— church in London, and after the wedding breakfast at her mother’s town house we shall go for a short time to Wales and Ireland and then sail for home.
“I suppose you and Gerard are at the Park, or will be soon, and I want you to see that everything is in order. We shall occupy the suite of rooms on the south side of the house instead of the east, and I’d like to have them refurnished throughout, and will leave everything to your good taste, only suggesting that although Miss Gardner’s hair is rather a peculiar color,—golden brown, some might call it,—she is not a blonde; neither is she a brunette; and such tints as soft French grays and pinks will suit her better than blue. The wedding day is fixed for June —. Shall telegraph as soon as we reach New York, and possibly write you before.
“Your loving father,
“Giles Thornton.”