Carruthers read aloud as he wrote:
“we are—happy to—name—that noble and uplifting—leader of—religious thought—”
“The chaplain would swat you if he heard you call him that.”
“Hill,” said Carruthers, with irritation, “you’ve done nothing but criticise and kick. If you can write better, do it. As far as I can see there’s not a fault in this letter, so far. Now let me finish. Where was I? Oh—‘leader of religious thought.’ That’s enough about the chaplain.
“Anticipating news of our sweet charge, who will become, we hope, the support of our declining years, we remain,
“Sincerely yours in hope,
“The Misses Bellingham.
“Now, Hill, any more criticism?”
“If the asylum people think the old ladies are going to make the child support them, they won’t send it,” objected Hill gloomily. “And it’s not etiquettical to sign your name ‘The Misses Bellingham.’ Ought to sign it their front names and no title.”
“But I don’t know their front names,” complained Carruthers.
“Might be Letitia and Mary,” suggested Duncan. “Make ’em that and have the letter sent in charge of Fitzhugh, else it will go straight to Letitia.”