The planting of that
crimson rambler will fix Tom, for he's a romantic boy.
"The planting of the rose was a heavenly inspiration if it does 'fix
Tom!' We'll call Tom the Chinese Enemy. No, we'll call him the Yellow
Peril," laughed Nancy in triumph.
I am delighted with the sample of paper you have chosen for the
front hall.
"I don't see why you didn't go over to Germany yourself, Nancy, and take
a trunk of samples!" cried Mrs. Carey, wiping the tears of merriment
from her eyes. "I can't think what the postage on your letter must have
been."
"Ten cents," Nancy confessed, "but wasn't it worth it, Muddy?--Come,
read the last few lines, and then we'll run all the way home to tell the
others."
Send me anything more, at any time, to give me an idea of the
delightful things you are doing. I shall be proud if you honor
me with an occasional letter. Pray give my regards to your
mother, whom I envy, and all the "stormy petrels," whom I envy
too.
Believe me, dear Miss Nancy,
Yours sincerely,
LEMUEL HAMILTON.
"I can't remember why I told him about Mother Carey's chickens," said
Nancy reflectively. "It just seemed to come in naturally. The Yellow
Peril must be rather nice, as well as his father, even if he is our
enemy. That was clever of him, putting his grandmother in the brick
oven!" And here Nancy laughed, and laughed again, thinking how her last
remark would sound if overheard by a person unacquainted with the
circumstances.
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