eldest, Margaret! I hope you are properly grateful for her. Such
talent, such beauty, such grace, such discretion--

But here the family rose _en masse_ and descended on the reader of the
spurious letter just as she had turned the first page. In the amiable
scuffle that ensued, a blue slip fell from Cousin Ann's envelope and
Gilbert handed it to his mother with the letter.

Mrs. Carey, wiping the tears of merriment that came to her eyes in spite
of her, so exactly had Nancy caught Cousin Ann's epistolary style, read
the real communication, which ran as follows:--

DEAR MARGARET,--I have had you much in mind since I left you,
always with great anxiety lest your strength should fail under
the unexpected strain you put upon it. I had intended to give
each of you a check for thirty-five dollars at Christmas to
spend as you liked, but I must say I have not entire confidence
in your judgment. You will be likelier far to decorate the walls
of the house than to bring water into the kitchen sink. I
therefore enclose you three hundred dollars and beg that you
will have the well piped _at once_, and if there is any way to
carry the water to the bedroom floor, do it, and let me send the
extra amount involved. You will naturally have the well cleaned
out anyway, but I should prefer never to know what you found in
it. My only other large gift to you in the past was one of
ornaments, sent, you remember, at the time of your wedding!

["We remember!" groaned the children in chorus.]

I do not regret this, though my view of life, of its sorrows and