"She does not want to be disturbed--I hope she will be better to-morrow."
"What is the matter, Fleda?"
"I don't know yet."
"And you are ill yourself, Fleda!--you are ill!--"
"No--I shall do very well--never mind me. Hugh, take some tea--I will be down by and by."
He went back, and Fieda went up stairs. Mrs. Rossitur had not moved. Fleda set down the light and herself beside it, with the paper her aunt had given her. It was a letter.
"Queechy, Thursday--
"It gives me great concern, my dear madam, to be the means of bringing to you a piece of painful information--but it cannot be long kept from your knowledge and you may perhaps learn it better from me than by any other channel. May I entreat you not to be too much alarmed, since I am confident the cause will be of short duration.
"Pardon me for what I am about to say.
"There are proceedings entered into against Mr. Rossitur--there are writs out against him--on the charge of having, some years ago, endorsed my father's name upon a note of his own giving.--Why it has lain so long I cannot explain. There is unhappily no doubt of the fact.