like a man's hand, if I must say something."

"And so are her letters like a man's. Read it and see. Oh, she wouldn't
mind! There is nothing in it, and yet somehow it seems just like Gerald.
Do read it. Oh, I want you to. Please, please do."

And led half by curiosity, half by the eagerness in Phebe's pretty face,
Denham opened the letter and read, Phebe glancing over it with him as if
she couldn't bear to lose sight of it an instant.

"DEAR PHEBE," so ran the letter, "your favor of 9th inst. rec. I
had no idea of intruding ourselves upon you when I asked you to look
up rooms, but as you seem really to want us"--("seem!" whispered
Phebe, putting her finger on the word with a pout)--"I can only say
we shall be very glad to come to you. You may look for Olly and
myself Friday, July 15th, by the P.M. train. Olly isn't really ill, only
run down. He is as horrid a little bear as ever. All are well, and
started last week for Narragansett Pier. I shall rejoice to get away
from the art school and guilds, which keep on even in this intemperate
weather, and I shall be glad to see you again, Phebe, my dear,"
(Phebe looked up triumphantly in Denham's face as she reached the
words.) "Remember me to Mrs. Lane and Miss--, I can't think
of her name,--Aunt Lydia, I mean.

"Sincerely yours

"GERALDINE VERNOR,

"P.S.--Olly only drinks milk."