But come, mother, let us sit
down to tea. All is safe, I am sure; and to-morrow I will make you
satisfied with my prudent management."
When the simple meal was over, they sat in the twilight before the gas
was lighted. The moments passed rapidly in their free and loving
converse. Then the table was drawn out and the new book was opened.
Mrs. Monroe suddenly recollected something.
"Walter, my dear, a letter was left here to-day by the postman. As it
was directed to the street and number, it did not go to your box. Here
it is. I have read it; and rather sad news it brings. Cousin Augustus
is failing, so his daughter writes, and it is doubtful whether he ever
recovers. Poor child! I am sorry for her."
Walter took the letter and hastily read it.
"A modest, feeling, sensible little girl, I am sure. I have never seen
her, you know; but this letter is simple, touching, and womanly."
"A dear, good girl, I am sure. How lonely she must be!"
"Mother, I believe I'll go and see them. In time of trouble we should
forget ceremony. Cousin Augustus has never invited me, but I'll go and
see him. Won't you go, too?"
"Dear boy, I couldn't! The cars? Oh, never!"
Walter smiled.
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