Somehow he had failed to
ring their bell when he left the letter. The missing tack in the
edge of the hall carpet had allowed the document to slide out of
sight, and it might have been hidden for weeks longer had chance
not shown the small corner of straw-colored paper to Nan.
She felt breathless. Her knees trembled. Somehow, Nan just KNEW
that the letter from her mother's cousin must be of enormous
importance. She set her broom in the corner and closed the door.
It was fated that she should do no more sweeping that day.
Chapter V
GREAT EXPECTATIONS
Mr. Sherwood, in overalls and an old cap, had been sifting
cinders out behind the shed. They had to be careful of fuel as
well as of most other things. Momsey would not open the long
envelope until he had been called and had come in. Nan still
wore the bright colored bandana wound about her head, turban-
wise, for a dust cap. Papa Sherwood beat the ashes from his
hands as he stood before the glowing kitchen range.
"What is it?" he asked calmly. "A notice of a new tax
assessment? Or a cure-all advertisement of Somebody's Pills?"
"It's from Cousin Adair," said Momsey, a little breathlessly.
"And it's been lying at our door all the time."
"All what time?" asked Mr.
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