She sighed
again--many times. If only they would let her have her fun out and give
her answer six months hence!
Her meditations were cut short by the arrival of a telegraph boy on his
bicycle at the front gate. He gave her the telegram. It was for Austin.
Her heart beat. She went into the house with the yellow envelope
containing Dick's destiny and mounted to the little room off the first
landing which had been Austin's private study since his boyhood. She
knocked. Austin's voice bade her enter. He rose from the desk where, pen
in hand, he had been sitting before a blank sheet of paper, and without
a word took the telegram. She noticed with a shock that he had curiously
changed. The quick, brisk manner had gone. His face was grey.
"It is _the_ telegram, isn't it?" she asked eagerly.
"Yes," said he, handing it to her. "It's from Lord Overton."
She read: "The very man. Send him along to me early to-morrow. Hope he
can start immediately."
"Oh, how splendid!" she exclaimed with a little gasp of happiness.
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