At length they heard them coming up the steep path from town, and Susie flew through the door with two letters in her hand. "They are both for you, Tabitha," she panted. "One's from mamma. I'd know her writing in the dark. Miss Davis didn't come on to-day's train, but I s'pose likely she'll be here to-morrow, don't you think?"
Tabitha snatched the envelopes from Susie's outstretched hand, and ripped them open with one stroke of the knife she held, muttering feverishly, "The other is from Miss Davis." Her quick eyes swept the page at a single glance, it seemed, and a smothered groan escaped her.
"What is it?" ventured Gloriana timidly, the morning's foreboding gripping her anew.
"She has broken her leg."
"Broken her leg!" repeated the red-haired girl dully.
"Broken her leg!" echoed mystified Susie.
"Who? Mamma?"
"Miss Davis."
"Holy snakes!"
"Why, Susie!"