“Perhaps it is a receipt for my subscription to the”—­But Miss Prince never finished the sentence, for when she had fairly taken the letter into her hand, the very touch of it seemed to send a tinge of ashen gray like some quick poison over her face.  She stood still, looking at it, then flushed crimson, and sat down in the nearest chair, as if it were impossible to hold herself upright.  The captain was uncertain what he ought to do.

“I hope you haven’t heard bad news,” he said presently, for Miss Prince had leaned back in the arm-chair and covered her eyes with one hand, while the letter was tightly held in the other.

“It is from my niece,” she answered, slowly.

“You don’t mean it’s from Jack’s daughter?” inquired the captain, not without eagerness.  He never had suspected such a thing; the only explanation which had suggested itself to his mind was that Miss Prince had been investing some of her money without his advice or knowledge, and he had gone so far as to tell himself that it was just like a woman, and quite good enough for her if she had lost it.  “I never thought of its being from her,” he said, a little bewildered, for the captain was not a man of quick wit; his powers of reflection served him better.  “Well, aren’t you going to tell me what she has to say for herself?”

“She proposes to make me a visit,” answered Miss Prince, trying to smile as she handed him the little sheet of paper which she had unconsciously crumpled together; but she did not give even one glance at his face as he read it, though she thought it a distressingly long time before he spoke.

“I must say that this is a very good letter, very respectful and lady-like,” said the captain honestly, though he felt as if he had been expected to condemn it, and proceeded to read it through again, this time aloud:—­

My dear aunt,—­I cannot think it is right that we do not know each other.  I should like to go to Dunport for a day some time next month; but if you do not wish to see me you have only to tell me so, and I will not trouble you.

Yours sincerely,
Anna Prince.

“A very good handwriting, too,” the captain remarked, and then gathered courage to say that he supposed Miss Prince would give her niece the permission for which she asked.  “I have been told that she is a very fine girl,” he ventured, as if he were poor Nan’s ambassador; and at this Miss Prince’s patience gave way.

“Yes, I shall ask her to come, but I do not wish anything said about it; it need not be made the talk of the town.”  She answered her cousin angrily, and then felt as if she had been unjust.  “Do not mind me, Walter,” she said; “it has been a terrible grief and trouble to me all these years.  Perhaps if I had gone to see those people, and told them all I felt, they would have pitied me, and not blamed me, and so everything would have been better, but it is too late now.  I don’t know what sort of a person my own niece is, and I wish that I need never find out, but I shall try to do my duty.”