The Treasure of Netherstrand

Chapter 19

"Is it from Arthur?" Grace asked eagerly. She watched her uncle studying one letter from the mail and reading the postmark carefully. "Is it for me?" the girl pressed cheerfully.

Preston Carlyle smiled at her. "As much for you as it is for me, my dear," he answered. "Yes, it is a letter from your brother."

"Is he on his way?" was the next, anxious question.

Mrs. Carlyle put a gentle hand on the girl's shoulder. "Grace, my dear, do compose yourself. It is not comely for a lady to seem so desperate. Allow your uncle to read the letter, and await his answer with all patience."

Gracie nodded her head, feeling jittery with excitement. Her eyes were glued to her uncle as he read the letter once or twice through. Her fingers started drumming against the tabletop nervously.

"That is not waiting with patience," her aunt noted.

"Oh, I am sorry!" the girl cried, clasping her trembling hands together. "But I can hardly contain myself. I am so excited that I could scream!"

Amelia Carlyle gave a start. "Really, dear, how astonishing! A lady must never scream unless she is in peril. And even then, it must be done with the greatest delicacy. Unless you are in true distress, Grace, you must learn to control these disturbing emotions of yours."

Gracie folded her hands in her lap and used all of her might to sit still and straight in her chair. She waited like a statue until Preston finally folded the letter and laid it aside. To Grace's horror, he picked up another letter and began to open it without saying a word.

"Uncle!" she burst suddenly. Her aunt gave her a sharp look of rebuke. The girl tried again in a quiet, strained voice. "Uncle, would you please allow me to read that letter now?" she begged.

"Oh! Why certainly!" the man answered her with a laugh. "My mind was elsewhere. Forgive me, child!" He offered the letter to her, and Gracie almost snatched it from his hand. But another stern glance from her aunt's eyes made her remember her manners. Slowly, she reached out and took the paper daintily between her fingers.

Her heart gave a wrenching throb of self-pity as she forced herself to act calm. I am dying with excitement, and I do not see why I should have to hide it! she thought, unfolding the letter carefully. She scanned the page with her eyes. There were only a few lines of writing, but they made her heart flutter.

Dear Family,

I am writing this note minutes before I board the train which I trust shall bring me to the station by seven-thirty tonight. You may expect my arrival by eight. Sincerely yours,

Arthur Lansbury

The girl traced her brother's elegant penmanship with her finger. She wished he had said something more. She wanted to hear about his journey, and she wanted to know how excited he was to see them all. But she knew he hadn't had time to write any of those things. With a blushing smile, she handed the letter to Amelia and let her aunt read the same glad tidings.

"Ah, he is on his way at last!" the woman said with a smile. "I am so glad! It has been far too long since he was in the right kind of society. Unfortunate as it may seem, I believe everything has turned out for the best." Amelia's statement had a cold sound to it.

"How is that, my love?" Mr. Carlyle asked, sipping his tea as he lounged in their suite.

"Well...you know," the lady answered hesitantly, "getting away from work, from those strenuous books, from everyone else's problems.... Not to mention, getting that silly girl out of his head."

"Oh...her," Preston muttered. "Yes, it may prove beneficial that she is out of the picture now. Although, it is a pity that the poor creature died. I am quite sure that Arthur will do far better without her."