This was the idea.
Herbert was already rehearsing in his mind the exact tone in which he
should say to Si: "Uncle, we think it only right--" when, as they
approached the house, they both saw a white envelope suspended under the
knocker of the door. It was addressed to "Mr Herbert Roden," in the
handwriting of Silas. The moment was dramatic. As they had not yet
discussed whether correspondence should be absolutely common property,
Alice looked discreetly away while Herbert read: "Dear nephew, I've gone
on for a week or two on business, and sent Jane Sarah home. Her's in
need of a holiday. You must lodge at Bratt's meantime. I've had your
things put in there, and they've gotten the keys of the house.--Yours
affly, S. Roden." Bratt's was next door but one, and Jane Sarah was the
Roden servant, aged fifty or more.
"Well, I'm--!" exclaimed Herbert.
"Well, I never!" exclaimed Alice when she had read the letter. "What's
the meaning--?"
"Don't ask me!" Herbert replied.
"Going off like this!" exclaimed Alice.
"Yes, my word!" exclaimed Herbert.
"But what are you to do?" Alice asked.
"Get the key from Bratt's, and get my box, if he hasn't had it carried
in to Bratt's already, and then wait for the cab to come.
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