"You're just as bad as the Major, every bit.

If you men hadn't me for a guardian you'd be in the poorhouse in a month." "But we have you, my dear," said Uncle John, smiling into her dancing eyes; "so we won't complain at one egg instead of two." Just then someone pounded on the door, and the girl ran to open it.
There was a messenger boy outside, looking smart and neat in his blue-and-gold uniform, and he touched his cap politely to the girl.
"Miss Patricia Doyle ?" "That's me." "A parcel for you.

Sign here, please." Patsy signed, bothering her head the while to know what the little package contained and who could have sent it.

Then the boy was gone, and she came back slowly to the breakfast table, with the thing in her hand.
"What is it, Patsy ?" asked the Major, curiously.
"I'm dying to know, myself," said the girl.
Uncle John finished his coffee, looking unconcerned.
"A good way is to open it," remarked the Major.
It was a very neat package, wrapped in fine paper and sealed with red wax.

Patsy turned it over once or twice, and then broke the wax and untied the cord.
A bunch of keys fell out first--seven of them, strung on a purple ribbon--and then a flat, impressive looking letter was discovered.
The Major stared open-mouthed.