to-morrow,--only think,--to-morrow,--just twenty-one hours more now. I
can hardly wait!"

"It will be a great happiness to her, surely, to see you again,"
said Denham.

"That's what she writes in her letter. At least she says: 'I shall be
glad to see you again, Phebe, my dear' Isn't that nice? 'Phebe, my dear,'
she says. That is a great deal for Gerald to say."

"Is it? But I believe some young ladies are less effusive with their pens
than with their tongues."

"It isn't Gerald's nature ever to be effusive. But oh, I'm so glad she's
coming! I only got her letter last night. See, doesn't she write a nice
hand?" And cautiously, lest any one else should see too, Phebe slipped an
envelope into Denham's hand. He bent back behind the lace curtains to
inspect it.

"Do you generally carry about your letters in your pocket, Miss Phebe?"

"No, only Gerald's. I love so always to have something of hers near me.
Isn't it a nice hand?"

Halloway looked silently at the upright, angular, large script. "It's
legible, certainly."

"But you don't like it?"

"Miss Phebe, I am torn between conflicting truth and politeness. It is