Sue's triumph more than it was his.

His happy musing was interrupted by a neighbor who, on his way home from
Thompsonville, stopped at the garden fence with the letter for Auntie
Sue.

Brian took the letter with a jest which brought a roar of laughter from
the mountaineer, and, when the latter had gone on his way up the hill,
started toward the house to find Auntie Sue.

Glancing at the envelope in his hand, Brian noticed the postmark "Buenos
Aires." He stopped suddenly, staring dumbly at the words in the circular
mark and at the name written on the envelope. Over and over, he
read "Buenos Aires,--Miss Susan Wakefield; Buenos Aires,--Miss Susan
Wakefield." Something--His brain seemed to be numb. His hands trembled.
He looked about at the familiar surroundings, and everything seemed
suddenly strange and unreal to him. He looked again at the letter in his
hand, turning it curiously. A strange feeling of oppression and ominous
foreboding possessed him as though the bright spring sky were all at
once overcast with heavy and menacing storm-clouds. What was it? "Buenos
Aires,--Susan Wakefield?" Where had he seen that combination before?
What was it that made the name of the Argentine city in connection with
Auntie Sue's name seem so familiar? Slowly, he went on to the house,
and, finding Auntie Sue, gave her the letter.

"Oh!" cried the old lady, as she saw the postmark on the envelope. "It
must be from brother John. It is not John's writing, though," she added,
as she opened the envelope.

And at her words the feeling of impending disaster so oppressed Brian