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Spencer kept at the bottom of an old horsehair trunk in her bedroom. They were postmarked from seaports all over the world. Mrs. Spencer never read them or looked at them; but she remembered every dash and curve of the handwriting. Isabella Spencer had overcome many things in her life by the sheer force and persistency of her will. But she could not get the better of heredity.
"More or less," said Vance, covering a yawn of excitement. "But how on earth could any business it's postmarked from Craterville." "Somebody may have heard about his prospects; they're starting early to separate him from his money." "Vance, how much talking did you do in Craterville?" It was hard to meet her keen old eyes. "Too much, I'm afraid," he said frankly.
"She got a letter postmarked Hollyhill yesterday," the young hostess replied. "Who was it from?" "I don't know. I didn't know that she was corresponding with anybody in the town. But the address on the envelope looked as if it was written by a man." "Do you suppose you could find that letter?" "I'll go upstairs and look," Marion said, suiting the action to the word.
The post chaise had brought it that afternoon, and he had thought perhaps she would like to have it at once as it was postmarked from her home. Would she tell Mr. Spafford when he returned—he seemed to take it for granted that David was out of town for the day—that everything had been going on all right at the office during his absence and the paper was ready to send to press.
If he had looked under Desiree's pillow, he would have found there a letter postmarked Cairo, wherein lay the secret of that happy change. Four pages signed by Frantz, his whole conduct confessed and explained to his dear little Zizi. It was the very letter of which the sick girl had dreamed.
"Were there no letters for me?" "Oh, dear, how stupid of me. I forgot to look through the rest of the mail. Here it is." Mrs. Ivy sorted out her own official-looking budget, then peered closely at the two remaining envelopes. "As I suspected," she said with a significant lifting of her eyebrows; "two for Constance, in the same handwriting and both postmarked from the Capitol."
She shook her head helplessly. For the next twenty-four hours the group suffered that, which is hardest to bear under the circumstances, inactivity. Twenty-four hours after the receipt of the second note there came a third, on the familiar cheap notepaper. This time it was postmarked Lentone, Vermont. It read: "Professor Brierly was told to go to New York. We will not stand any fooling.
Such, however ungallant, will be the language of your admirer and friend, New-York, May 8, 1804. I think I have answered, or at least have noticed, your letter of the 17th, being the last which has been received, and, as usual, postmarked nine days after its date. The affair of La G. is becoming serious.
It's Betty that 'pears to be bringin' up the little Appletons." "I'm glad there's somebody takes enough interest in the child to write to her," continued the gossipy old squire, who often talked to himself when he could find no other audience. "I wonder who it is. Lloydsboro Valley it's postmarked. Wish she'd happen down here. I'd ask her who it's from."
The day before the night on which the dogs were to be poisoned, Joseph, who was nearly bored to death in Issoudun, received two letters: the first from the great painter Schinner, whose age allowed him a closer intimacy than Joseph could have with Gros, their master, and the second from Desroches. Here is the first, postmarked Beaumont-sur-Oise:
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