give him a nickel, please; and please give that medical student
on the fifth floor--I forget his name--the stockings I mended.
They are in the first drawer of the walnut bureau.
Good-by, my dear, good daughter.

"MOTHER, JANE M. LOUDER."


When Tilly read the letter she was surrounded by wall-paper
and carpet samples. Her eyes grew moist before she laid it down;
but she set her mouth more firmly.

"It is an awful short time, but I've just got to hurry and have it
over before she comes," said she.

Next week Jane returned. She was on the train, waiting in her seat
in the car, when Captain Ferguson handed her Tilly's last letter,
which had lain in the post-office for three days.

It was very short:


"DEAR MOTHER: I shall be very glad indeed to see you.
I have a surprise which I hope will be pleasant for you;
anyhow, I truly have meant it for your happiness.
Your affectionate daughter,
M. E. LOUDER."


There must have been, despite her shrewd sense, an obtuse streak