"Begging your pardon, Miss, --I mean Her pardon, --the Lord forgive me, I
took you for the Lady Madonna and the blessed Boy with the shining hair.
Now, don't be telling of me, will you?"
"Indeed, we won't; we'll keep the pretty compliment to ourselves. Have you
the mail? I wonder if there is a letter for me."
Ben immediately drew out his little pack, and handed her two. It was still
light enough to read; and as Ben moved on, she stood and opened them.
"This," she announced in a matter-of-course way, "is from Miss Dorothy
Gwynne, who requests the pleasure of my company at a high-tea next
Saturday. That, or the hay-ride, Will? And this--this--"
It was a simple envelope addressed to
Miss RUTH LEVICE--
Beacham's--
. . . County--
Cal.
It was the sight of the dashes that caused the hiatus in her sentence, and
made her heart give one great rushing bound. The enclosure was to the
point.
SAN FRANCISCO, Aug. 18, 188--.
MISS RUTH LEVICE:
MY DEAR FRIEND, --That you may not denounce me as too presumptuous, I shall
at once explain that I am writing this at Bob's urgent desire. He has at
length got the position at the florist's, and tells me to tell you that he
is now happy.
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