Was I right?

by Mrs. O. F. Walton

"It is only from my father, Alice. There, take it and read it if you make such a fuss about it!" And he tossed the letter out of his pocket.

Alice sat down and read it, and when she had gone through it once, she turned it over and read it again, and then, folding it up very gravely and slowly, she handed it back to Claude. He put it into his pocket, and went on reading.

Alice leant over his shoulder, and her face, which was generally so bright and merry, was very grave and thoughtful.

Evelyn and I were busy with our pattern, and for some minutes no one spoke.

Then I heard Alice say, in a low voice, "What enclosures were there, Claude? What is it that has vexed your father so much?"

CLAUDE BURNS THE LETTERS.

"Oh, only some rubbishy old bills," said Claude, impatiently; "those Oxford tradesmen are the greatest scoundrels on the face of the earth! It's always their way! But the best plan is to take no notice of them; shy their bills into the fire, and leave them alone."

And, in spite of Alice's remonstrances, he walked to the fireplace, and thrust a roll of letters, which he took from his pocket, into the flames, and watched them turn to ashes.

"They will send them in again, Claude," said Alice, gravely.