"
"And to you, mother," said she, drawing down the worn, beautiful face
and kissing it. "Why not to you also? Why not to you both?"
The mother smiled, and patted the girl's head, and then returned to the
other side of the table. Waters brought in some fruit, fresh from Covent
Garden.
He also brought in a letter, which he put beside his master's plate.
Brand did not even look at it; he pushed it aside, to give him more
room. But in pushing it aside he turned it somewhat and Natalie's eye
happening to fall on the address, she perceived at once that it was in
the handwriting of her father.
"Dearest," said she, in a low voice, and rather breathlessly, "the
letter is from papa."
"From your father?" said he, without any great concern. Then he turned
to Natalie's mother. "Will you excuse me? My friends are determined to
remind me of their existence to-day."
But this letter was much shorter than Calabressa's, though it was
friendly enough.
"My Dear Mr. Brand," it ran,--"I am glad to hear that you acted with so
much promptitude that your preparations for departure are nearly
complete.
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