postman and an occasionally tripping heart buttoned under her reefer. The letter did come at last, however, and Jane bore it breathlessly to her sanctum, the office. This envelope also boasted a seal — a square blue one with a flying-fish on it — and it was addressed in a courtly but difficult hand. As it was a rather important letter in many ways, it had best be given here in full.
Brimmer Street,
Boston, Massachusetts.
March Twentieth.
Miss Jane Ingram,
Ingram Mansion,
["Now how did he know that?" thought Jane.]
My Dear Jane Ingram: It is not very often in an old man's life that a very pleasant and wholly surprising event comes to rouse him from a chronic nap. Your letter, however, did exactly that to your most faithful servant, who may, perhaps, be able to equally surprise you.
For you shall know that I sailed to China with your grandfather Mark, in the Gloria—her last voyage to Eastern seas (she never spread canvas again after that cruise). Your grandfather was then a man of thirty-odd, and I was a young chap