onsequently, as
Mrs. Makebelieve sat contemplating that futurity which is nothing more
than a prolongation of experience she could smile contentedly, for all
was very well.

XXXII

If the unexpected did not often happen life would be a logical,
scientific progression which might become dispirited and repudiate its
goal for very boredom, but nature has cunningly diversified the
methods whereby she coaxes or coerces us to prosecute, not our own,
but her own adventure. Beyond every corner there may be a tavern or a
church wherein both the saint and the sinner may be entrapped and
remolded. Beyond the skyline you may find a dynamite cartridge, a
drunken tinker, a mad dog, or a shilling which some person has
dropped; and any one of these unexpectednesses may be potent to urge
the traveler down a side street and put a crook in the straight line
which had been his life, and to which he had become miserably
reconciled. The element of surprise being, accordingly, one of the
commonest things in the world we ought not to be hypercritical in our
review of singularities, or say--"These things do not happen,"--because
it is indisputable that they do happen. That combination which
comprises a dark night, a highwayman armed and hatted to the teeth,
and myself, may be a purely fortuitous one, but will such a criticism
bring any comfort to the highwayman? And the concourse of three
benevolent millionaires with the person to whom poverty can do no
more is so pleasant and possible that I marvel it does not occur more
frequently. I am prepared to believe on the very lightest assurance
that these things do happen, but are hushed up for reasons which
would be cogent enough if they were available.

Mrs. Makebelieve opened the letter which the evening's post had
brought to her. She had pondered well before opening it, and had
discussed with her daughter all the possible people who could have
written it. The envelope was long and narrow, it was addressed in a
swift emphatic hand, the tail of the letter M enjoying a career
distinguished beyond any of its fellows by length and beauty. The
envelope, moreover, was sealed by a brilliant red lion with jagged
whiskers and a simper, who threatened the person daring to open a
missive not addressed to him with the vengeance of a battle-axe which
was balanced lightly but truculently on his right claw.

This envelope contained several documents purporting to be copies of
extraordinary original