a letter addressed in an old-fashioned slanting handwriting, and bearing
the Seaton post mark. Mrs. Woodward read it in silence, and left her
toast unfinished. Aunt Harriet's communications generally upset her for
the day.

"Come here, Winona," she said agitatedly, after breakfast. "Oh, dear, I
wish I knew what to do! It's so very unexpected, but of course it would
be a splendid thing for you. If only I could consult somebody! I suppose
girls nowadays will have to learn to support themselves, and the war
will alter everything, but I'd always meant you to stop at home and look
after the little ones for me, and it's very--"

"What does Aunt Harriet say, mother?" interrupted Winona, with a catch
in her throat.

"She says a great deal, and I dare say she's right. Oh, this terrible
war! Things were so different when I was a girl! You might as well read
the letter for yourself, as it concerns you. I always think she's hard
on Percy, poor lad! I was afraid the children were too noisy the last
time she was here, but they wouldn't keep quiet. I'm sure I try to do my
best all round, and you know, Winona, how I said Aunt Harriet--"

But Winona was already devouring the letter.


"10 Abbey Close,

"Seaton,

"August 26th.