Melvina started promptly on her quest.
“Don’t be all night about it,” was Ellen’s parting admonition.
While the messenger was gone, the invalid gave vent to her impatience by drumming rhythmically on the wooden edge of the bedstead, and this measured tattoo increased in speed until it beat time with the feverish bounding of her pulse and the throbbing of her heart.
“Ain’t you found it yet?” she shouted at last.
“Yes, I’ve just come on it. It was under——”
“No matter where it was. Bring it here.”
“I’m comin’.”
Bearing the envelope, Melvina appeared in the doorway.
“Let me see it,” said Ellen.
She took it in her hand and, while Melvina held the candle, examined the package critically. 232