With shaking wits and hands you are not fit! Besides, what would Mrs.Dawson do all the evening without you?
No, Mr.Dawson, you write the letter and I will do the rest." She put paper and pens and ink before him on a little table out in the porch, and she and Patience kept very quiet so that they might not interrupt him; but it was no good, he could not write, he really was too much excited and overcome.

So at last Miss Grace wrote a little letter for him, one that brought satisfaction to both of them.
It expressed their amazement, their joy and excitement, and sent their dearest love, and some little news of them.

"Your granny is stronger and more active than she has been for a long time," she wrote, "and perhaps your coming will make her quite well and able to get about again." She felt she ought to prepare Jessie for some of the change she would see.
"There, that is the business part, as you might call it," she said, placing the letter in an envelope, "but I am sure she will worry if there isn't a word from you, Mr.Dawson.

Can you write just a tiny message to slip in with mine ?--just to say how glad you are." "Glad!" cried Thomas; "glad is a poor kind of word for what I feel!" He had recovered a little, and was as gay as a schoolboy just getting ready for the holidays.

He pulled a piece of paper towards him, and squaring his elbows, he wrote in large round hand: "Come home quick to granp, and I'll be there to meet you-- same as before." "Your loving grandfather," "T.