"Is it bad news?" she asked fearfully.
"No, not bad news; it is good news, very good news," he said, "but those rascals have tampered with the letter."
He held it up to her, and she saw that one word, a long word too, had been completely blotted out.
"It has evidently been done on purpose," he said, "lest this letter should by any means fall into my hands."
"Is the word of much importance?"
"Of every importance; in fact, it is the most important word in the whole letter. Miss Douglas, we will have some tea, and then I want you, if you do not mind, to read the letter you have brought."
"May I? But are you sure you would like me to read it?"
"I am quite sure; indeed, so far from minding it, I am most anxious that you should read it."
He put the armchair near the table for her, and began to pour out the tea, but his hand trembled so much with strong emotion that she asked him if she might do it for him. He told her that, if she did not mind doing it, he should like to remember it, after she had gone; it would be something to think of when he was alone.
"It's rather different to the last tea we had together," he said; "that cosy tea in Fernbank. If I had known you were coming, I would have had some cake!"