"I don't know. You can answer him."
"I could never do it in the world!"
"I own it's difficult," said Elmore coldly.
"Oh, I will answer him—I will answer him," cried Lily, "rather than have any trouble about it. Here,—here," she said, reaching blindly for pen and paper, as she seated herself at Elmore's desk, "give me the ink, quick. Oh, dear! What shall I say? What date is it?—the 25th? And it doesn't matter about the day of the week. 'Dear Mr. Hoskins—Dear Mr. Hoskins—Dear Mr. Hosk'—Ought you to put Clay Hoskins, Esq., at the top or the bottom—or not at all, when you've said Dear Mr. Hoskins? Esquire seems so cold, anyway, and I won't put it! 'Dear Mr. Hoskins'—Professor Elmore!" she implored reproachfully, "tell me what to say!"
"That would be equivalent to writing the letter," he began.
"Well, write it, then," she said, throwing down the pen. "I don't ask you to dictate it. Write it,—write anything,—just in pencil, you know; that won't commit you to anything; they say a thing in pencil isn't legal,—and I'll copy it out in the first person."
"Owen," said his wife, "you shall not refuse! It's inhuman, it's inhospitable, when Lily wants you to, so! Why, I never heard of such a thing!"
Elmore desperately caught up the sheet of paper on which Lily had written "Dear Mr. Hoskins," and groaning out "Well, well!" he added,—
I have your letter. Come to the station to-morrow and say good-by to her whom you will yet live to thank for remaining only
Your friend,
Elizabeth Mayhew.
"There! there, that will do beautifully—beautifully! Oh, thank you, Professor Elmore, ever and ever so much! That will save his feelings, and do everything," said Lily, sitting down again to copy it; while Mrs. Elmore, looking over her shoulder, mingled her hysterical excitement with the girl's, and helped her out by sealing the note when it was finished and directed.