When she was quite sure that he was gone she took her sister’s note from the mantelpiece and slowly broke the seal. ” “Oh, Lucy, I never have stopped thinking about you since the first day I walked you home. He had offered to escort the young lady to England where she might seek refuge with her relations there, and proposed that the maid Yolande might serve Miss Charvill. I've been hunting for this particular job for a thousand years!" She smiled a little sadly over this fine enthusiasm; for in her wisdom she had a clear perception where it would eventually end—in the veranda chair. It was a gray day in the spring of 1910. Pure luck! If the boy had grown a moustache or a beard, a needle in the haystack would have been soft work. “That thing’s going on,” she told herself.
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