had seen the last of Mrs. Ellsworthy, after such a piece of
impertinence. But the lady of Shortlands was really delighted.

"To think of my being here all these years, and never knowing those
charming creatures," she soliloquized. Just then she saw Miss
Martineau crossing the street, and she ordered her coachman to draw
up.

"I have been with them, dear Miss Martineau--they are delightful--so
fresh--and so--so pretty! They are coming to Shortlands to-morrow.
Good-bye--warm morning, is it not? Home, Tomlinson."

The girls had entered the little house, cheered by Mrs. Ellsworthy's
visit. Primrose, it is true, did not share her younger sisters'
enthusiasm, but even she was pleased, and owned to herself that Mrs.
Ellsworthy was a very different neighbor from the village folk.

Primrose's mind, however, was a good deal absorbed by what she had
discovered in her mother's little old-fashioned cabinet. A letter
directed to herself lay there unopened. She longed to break the seal,
and to acquaint herself with the contents of this message from the
dead. She longed to read the letter, but she knew she could only do so
at some quiet moment. She must peruse those beloved words when she was
alone and quite sure of being undisturbed. She thought she might slip
away into a little glade at the back of the house that afternoon, and
there read her letter, and ponder over its contents.

Events, however, were to occur which would prevent Primrose carrying
out this scheme.