helplessly for a turn of events which should make it possible
for him to speak.

Philemon was thus engaged or disengaged one December
morning when Peg entered the parlour where the family were
sitting as close to the fire as the intense glow of the hickory
embers would allow, and handing Janice a letter with an air
of some importance, remarked, "Charles he ask me give you
dat." Then, colonial servants being prone to familiarity, and
negro slaves doubly so, Peg rested her weight on one foot,
and waited to learn what this unusual event might portend.
All present instantly fixed their eyes upon Janice, but had
they not done so it is probable that she would have coloured
much as she did, for the girl was enough interested and
enough frightened to be quite unconscious of the eyes upon
her.

"A letter for thee, lass!" exclaimed the squire. "Let 's
have the bowels of it."

The necessity for that very thing was what made the occurrence
so alarming to Janice, for her woman's intuition had at
once suggested, the moment she had seen the bold hand-writing
of the superscription, that it could be from none other
than Evatt, and she had as quickly surmised that her father
and mother would insist upon sight of the missive. Unaware
of what it might contain, she sat with red cheeks, not daring
to break the seal.

"Hast got the jingle brains, child?" asked her mother,