"Yes; I learned later what it was. And Aunt Sally knows."
"Tell me; tell me what you know about it," commanded Sylvia gravely, and her voice was clear now.
Dan hesitated. He rose and stood with his arm resting on the mantel.
"It's all right, Daniel. Now that Sylvia has asked, she must know just what we know," said Mrs. Owen.
"The letter was among your grandfather's papers. It was an offer to pay for your education. It was an unsigned letter."
"But you know who wrote it?" asked Sylvia, not lifting her head.
"No; I don't know that," he replied earnestly; "we haven't the slightest idea."
"But how did you come to be the messenger? Who gave you the letter?" she persisted quietly.
"Daniel never told me that, Sylvia. But if you want to know, he must tell you. It might be better for you not to know; you must consider that. It can make no difference now of any kind."
"It may make a difference," said Sylvia brokenly, not lifting her head; "it may make a great deal of difference. That's why I speak of it; that's why I must know!"