"It's no trick, Hector!" exclaimed Annie. "There's nobody would have the
heart to do it. Let _me_ see the letter."
She almost caught it from his hands as he picked it from the fender, and
looked at the signature.
"Hale & Hale?" she read. "I never heard of them!"
"No, nor anyone else, I dare say," answered Hector.
"Let us see the address at the top," said Annie.
"There it is--Philpot Lane."
"Where is that? I don't believe there is such a place!"
"Oh, yes, there is; I've seen it--somewhere in the City, I believe. But
let us read the letter. I saw only the figures. I confess I was foolish
enough at first to fancy somebody had sent us five hundred pounds!"
"And why not?" cried Annie. "I am sure there's no one more in want of
it."
"That's just why not," answered Hector. "Did you ever know a rich man
leave his money to a poor relation? Oh, I hope it does not mean that my
father is gone. He may have left us a trifle. Only he could not have had
so much to leave to anybody. I know he loved you, Annie."
In the meantime Annie had been doing the one sensible thing--reading the
letter, and now she stood pondering it.
"I have it, Hector. He always uses good people to do his kindnesses.
Don't you remember me telling you about the little old lady in Graham's
shop the time your book came out?"
"Yes, Annie; I wasn't likely to forget that; it was my love for you that
made me able to write the poem. Ah, but how soon was the twenty pounds I
got for it spent, though I thought it riches then!"
"So it was--and so it is!" cried Annie, half laughing, but crying
outright.
Pages:
59
60
61
62
63
64
65
66
67
68
69
70
71
72
73
74
75
76
77
78
79
80
81
82
83