"There's one thing, though, I am very proud of, Fred," he said; "I may
not be a good judge of humanity myself, but I am glad to know that my
girl had all her wits about her when she went to pick out a man for
herself!"
Randolph and Reginald stayed in hiding until it was established beyond
all doubt that their brother Fred was alive and well. Then they came
back to the "Sailors' Rest," and life for them went on as before.
At Christmas time a bulky letter and a small white box came addressed
to them, bearing the postmark of Bournemouth.
The brothers seized their letter with undiluted joy; it was addressed
in a bold, masculine hand, a lawyer's undoubtedly--a striking though
perhaps not conclusive proof that Aunt Patience had winged her flight.
They were a little bit disappointed that it had not black edges--they
had always imagined that the "blow" would come with black edges.
Reginald opened it, read it, and let it fall to the floor.
Randolph opened it, read it, and let it fall to the floor.
It contained a thick announcement card, with heavy gold edge, and the
news that it carried was to the effect that on December the first Miss
Priscilla Abigail Patience Brydon had been united in marriage to Rev.
Alfred William Henry Curtis Moreland, Rector of St. Albans, Tilbury-on-
the-Stoke, and followed this with the information that Mr. and Mrs.
Alfred William Henry Curtis Moreland would be at home after January the
first in the Rectory, Appleblossom Court, Parklane Road, Tilbury-on-
the-Stoke.
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