Don't feel like
doin' anything to-night."
He was used to undressing in the dark and he did not light the lamp,
but as he was about to get into bed his hand touched something smooth
and stiff that was lying on the pillow.
"It's a letter," he exclaimed, wonderingly, and he hastened to light
the lamp.
"Oh!" he cried, breathlessly, as he saw the bold, firm
handwriting. "It's from the bishop."
His cheeks were flushed, his eyes shining and his fingers fairly
shaking with excitement as he held the letter carefully in his hands,
reading and rereading the address.
"THEODORE BRYAN,
Care of MRS. MARTIN."
He thought how many times he had sat beside the bishop's desk and
watched the pen travelling so rapidly across the paper. Theodore would
have known _that_ writing anywhere.
For a long time he did not open the letter. It was happiness enough to
know that it was there in his hands, the first letter he had ever
received. And to think that the bishop should have written it--to
him, Theodore Bryan! It was a pity that the bishop could not have seen
the boy's face as he stood looking with glowing eyes at the envelope.
At last he opened it and began to read the letter. It was a long one,
and as the boy read on and on, his breath came quicker and his eyes
grew dim, and when he had finished it his cheeks were wet, but he did
not know it.
Pages:
214
215
216
217
218
219
220
221
222
223
224
225
226
227
228
229
230
231
232
233
234
235
236
237
238