At that moment the door was opened, and the butler appeared with the
evening post on a salver. Mr. Delaney laid the letters languidly by
his plate.

"Shall we go into the drawing room, Jane?" he said.

Mrs. Dolman rose briskly.

"I shall retire early to bed," she said. "Read your letters, please,
David; you need not stand on ceremony with me."

Mr. Delaney looked over his post; then his eyes lighted up as he saw
the handwriting on one of the envelopes. He opened the letter in
question, which immediately interested him vastly. It happened to be
from an old friend, and certainly seemed to come at an opportune
moment. This friend was about to start on an expedition to the
Himalayas, and he begged his old fellow-traveler to go with him. His
long letter, the enthusiastic way he wrote, the suggestions he threw
out of possible and exciting adventures came just at the nick of time
to the much-depressed and weary man.

"Why, I declare, Jane," he said, "this does seem to come opportunely."
He walked over to where his sister was standing, and read a portion of
the letter aloud. "If I might venture to trust my darlings to you," he
said, "there is nothing in all the world I should like better than to
accompany Seymour to the Himalayas. He starts in a fortnight's time,
so there really is not a day to lose."

"Then, David," said Mrs. Dolman, "you will not allow this valuable