CHAPTER VII

ular. ConsequentlyshewasimmenselysurprisedwhenMr.Carewe,lookingevenmoreJovianthanusual,pokedaletterouttoher.Yes,itwasaddressedtoherplainly,inafierce,blackhand:“MissValancyStirling,ElmStreet,Deerwood”—andthepostmarkwasMontreal.Valancypickeditupwithalittlequickeningofherbreath.Montreal!ItmustbefromDoctorTrent.Hehadrememberedher,afterall. ValancymetUncleBenjamincominginasshewasgoingoutandwasgladtheletterwassafelyinherbag. “What,”saidUncleBenjamin,“isthedifferencebetweenadonkeyandapostage-stamp?” “Idon’tknow.What?”answeredValancydutifully. “Oneyoulickwithastickandtheotheryoustickwithalick.Ha,ha!” UncleBenjaminpassedin,tremendouslypleasedwithhimself. CousinSticklespouncedontheTimeswhenValancygothome,butitdidnotoccurtohertoaskiftherewereanyletters.Mrs.Frederickwouldhaveaskedit,butMrs.Frederick’slipsatpresentweresealed.Valancywasgladofthis.IfhermotherhadaskediftherewereanylettersValancywouldhavehadtoadmittherewas.ThenshewouldhavehadtolethermotherandCousinSticklesreadtheletterandallwouldbediscovered. Herheartactedstrangelyonthewayupstairs,andshesatdownbyherwindowforafewminutesbeforeopeningherletter.Shefeltveryguiltyanddeceitful.Shehadneverbeforekeptalettersecretfromhermother.EverylettershehadeverwrittenorreceivedhadbeenreadbyMrs.Frederick.Thathadnevermattered.Valancyhadneverhadanythingtohide.Butthisdidmatter.Shecouldnothaveanyoneseethisletter.Butherfingerstrembledwithaconsciousnessofwickednessandunfilialconductassheopenedit—trembledalittle,too,perhaps,withapprehension.Shefeltquitesuretherewasnothingseriouslywrongwithherheartbut—oneneverknew. Dr.Trent’sletterwaslikehimself—blunt,abrupt,concise,wastingnowords.Dr.Trentneverbeataboutthebush.“DearMissSterling”—andthenapageofblack,positivewriting.Valancyseemedtoreaditataglanceshedroppeditonherlap,herfaceghost-white. Dr.Trenttoldherthatshehadaverydangerousandfatalformofheartdisease—anginapectoris—evidentlycomplicatedwithananeurism—whatever