It was like churning, but I did manage to grind the copy. I was
satisfied that the United States and Great Britain would not go to war
over it.
The late afternoon mail brought two letters. I opened the one from
Phyllis first. It said:
"DEAR JACK--Uncle Bob has a box for the opera to-night, but he has been
suddenly called to Washington; politics, possibly, but he would not
say. Aunty and I want you to go with us in his stead. Ethel and her
fiance, Mr. Holland, will be together, which means that Aunty and I
will have no one to talk to unless you come. Carmen is to be sung.
Please do not fail me.
"PHYLLIS."
Fail her! I thought not.
Then I read the second letter. I read it three or four times, and even
then I was not sure that I was not dreaming. I caught up my pipe
again, filled it and lit it. I read the letter once more. I was
solemnly informed that my uncle was dead and that I was mentioned in
the will, and that if I would kindly call at the Hoffman House the
following morning a certain sum of money would be given to me. I
regretted that I had reached that age when a man's actions must be
dignified, although alone; otherwise I dare say I should have danced
the pas seul.
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