ntingly familiar. Persis studied the
post-mark with the result of piquing her curiosity, rather than
satisfying it.

"Warren, New York. First time I ever heard of that place to my
knowledge. Beats all how folks can know your name, when you hadn't
even found out that their town was on the map." With a mounting and
pleasurable sense of her own importance, Persis opened the letter and
looked first at the signature of the writer. Then with an exclamation
of interest, she gave herself to the perusal of the communication,
forgetting Justin Ware for the moment as completely as if he had never
existed.

"My Dear Miss Dale--A friend of mine, Mr. Washington Thompson, has
asked me to write requesting you to forward him at once a letter of
mine which has come into your possession though I am at a loss to
understand how. I have told Mr. Thompson that after all this time the
letter is perfectly worthless, but he does not seem to be of that
opinion. Accordingly I am troubling you by this request. Mr. Thompson
will be at the Munroe Hotel, Cincinnati, from the twelfth to the
fifteenth, and for the week following at the Hollenden Hotel, Cleveland.

"Yours truly,

"Enid Randolph.

"Warren, New York."

Persis sprang to her feet and ran out upon the porch. The irate Joel,
nursing his wrongs in dignified silence, experienced a new sense of
injury at the sight of her radiant face.

"Joel, when you happen to pass young Mis' Thompson's I want you to stop
and tell her that I've got a piece of goods here that maybe belongs to
her. Ask her if she'll come in the first time she's by. You might
say, Joel, that I'd be much obliged if she'd make a point of coming
soon, as I have a general cleaning up along about this season, and I
like to get rid of all the odds and ends that are cluttering up things."

Nothing in Joel's expression indicated that he had even heard the
commission, but his look of gloomy abstraction did not deceive his
sister who was perfectly aware that he understood her request and would
take a certain satisfaction in executing it. She returned to her mail,
making short work of an advertisement of a new substitute for silk
linings and another which offered a fashion periodical at bargain
prices. The last letter in the pile again aroused her curiosity, for
the upper left-hand corner bore the legend, "Delaney and Briggs,
Attorneys at Law."

"Lawyers, too. Well, I don't blame Joel for feeling exercised.