"I wish James had heard that," cried Ann, while Rivers gathered up the remains of his umbrella.
As Billy drove away, Mrs. Penhallow called back, "You will come to dinner to-day?"
"Thank you, but not to-day."
As Ann came down the stairs to the hall, Penhallow was in the man's attitude, with his back to the fire. Leila with a hand on the mantel and a foot on the fender was talking to her uncle, an open letter in her hand. Ann heard him say, "That was in October"—and then—"Why this must be a month old!"
"It must have been delayed. He wrote a note after the fight at Belmont, and that was in October. He did write once since then, but it was hardly worth sending. As a letter writer, John is rather a failure, but this is longer." She laughed gaily as she spread open the letter.
"He has got a new hero, uncle—General Grant. John is strong on heroes—he began with you."
"Stuff and nonsense," said the Squire. "Read it."
Leila hesitated.
"Oh, let's hear it," cried her aunt.
"Go on, dear," said the Squire.