he had left the city proper
and had reached the new avenue or "drive," which, by the liberality of
Mr. Tweed with other people's money, was then just approaching
completion. After walking the length of it, he turned back to his
boarding-place, and after a plunge, felt as if he could face and fight
the future to any extent.

As a result of this he was for the first time late at breakfast The
presider over the box-office had ascertained that Peter had spent the
night out, and had concluded he would have a gird or two at him. He
failed, however, to carry out his intention. It was not the first time
that both he and his companions had decided to "roast" Peter, absent,
but had done other wise with Peter, present. He had also decided to say
to Peter, "Who's your dandy letter-writer?" But he also failed to do
that. This last intention referred to a letter that lay at Peters place,
and which was examined by each of the four in turn. That letter had an
air about it. It was written on linen paper of a grade which, if now
common enough, was not so common at that time. Then it was postmarked
from one of the most, fashionable summer resorts of the country.
Finally, it was sealed with wax, then very unusual, and the wax bore the
impression of a crest. They were all rather disappointed when Peter put
that letter in his pocket, without opening it.

Peter read the letter at his office that morning. It was as follows:

GREY-COURT, July 21st.

DEAR. OLD MAN--

Like a fool I overslept myself on the morning you left, so did not
get my talk with you. You know I never get up early, and never
can, so you have only your refusal to let me in that night to
blame for our not having a last chat. If I had had the news to
tell you that I now have, I should not have let you keep me out,
even if you had forced me to break my way in.

Chum, the nicest girl in the world has told me that she loves me,
and we are both as happy as happy can be, I know you will not be
in a moment's doubt as to who she is, I have only run down here to
break it to my family, and shall go back to the Shrubberies early
next week--to talk to Mr. Pierce, you understand!

My governor has decided that a couple of years' travel will keep
me out of mischief as well as anything else he can devise, and as
the prospect is not unpleasant, I am not going to let my new
plans interfere with it, merely making my jour