Now come inside the drawing-room, every one of you, or you will all blame me for undermining your precious healths--you, too, Major, and bring your cigars with you.

So you don't drop your ashes into my tea-caddy, I don't care where you throw them." It was late in the afternoon of the second day when the telegram arrived, a delay which caused no apparent suffering to any one except, perhaps, Peter, who wandered about with a "Nothing from Jack yet, eh ?" A question which no one answered, it being addressed to nobody in particular, unless it was to Ruth, who had started at every ring of the door-bell.

As to Miss Felicia--she had already dismissed the young man from her mind.
When it did arrive there was a slight flutter of interest, but nothing more; Miss Felicia laying down her book, Ruth asking in indifferent tones--even before the despatch was opened--"Is he coming ?" and Morris, who was playing chess with Peter, holding his pawn in mid-air until the interruption was over.
Not so Peter--who with a joyous "Didn't I tell you the boy would keep his promise--" sprang from his chair, nearly upsetting the chess-board in his eagerness to hear from Jack, an eagerness shared by Ruth, whose voice again rang out, this time in an anxious tone, "Hurry up, Uncle Peter--is he coming ?" Peter made no answer; he was staring straight at the open slip, his face deathly pale, his hand trembling.
"I'll tell you all about it in a minute, dear," he said at last with a forced smile.

Then he touched Morris's arm and the two left the room..