As they stood by the open window, leaning against the sill, he tore open the envelope and began reading aloud, she looking idly out upon some haymakers in a neighboring field. Their voices came faintly to her ears, and they made a pleasant picture in the afternoon sunlight with the village spires, the tall elms, and the purple hills for a background. She wondered if India was at all like New England. DEAR JOSIAH: The case ought to reach you about a fortnight after this letter, and if you will write to Mr. Wharton, or better still, visit him, he will see that there is no trouble at the Custom House. Give my love to Sarah, but don’t show her the shawl and the silks before her birthday, in January. What you say about the boy Amos does not surprise me, and I was only waiting for you to make your own discoveries. He gave clear indications when a very small child of this same faculty in which his mother and the rest of his family had great faith. In the box you will receive I send a book giving an account of the Rajah Sirdar Sing, his ancestor, a hero of prophetic powers who died ninety-eight years ago, so this boy, according to tradition, should inherit the same supernatural faculties. Be careful that he does not see this book before coming of age, as it might put dangerous ideas into his head, and if he should suspect what he really is great mischief might ensue. I am glad he is turning out such a sensible boy. But if he should ever come over here and make himself known it would cause a great disturbance, and might result fatally to himself. Am sorry to hear about Phil Bates’s wife. She was a fool to marry him. Your affectionate brother, MORTON JUDD. Amos stood looking down at the letter and remained silent. She laid a hand upon his arm and said, “What does it mean, Amos, about not letting you know who you are? Who are you?” He looked up with a smile. “I don’t know; I can only guess.” “Well, what do you guess?” “I guess that I am the rajah of that province.” “Really? Why, you don’t mean it! And have you always known it?” “I don’t know it now, but I have always suspected it.” “You funny old thing! Why, this is awfully exciting! And you never told me!” “Why should I? Your father would only have hastened my departure if I had tried to pass myself off as a fairy prince; and you would have laughed in my face.” “No. I am not so sure. But that was long ago, and to-day I should believe anything you told me.” “Well, I believe you would,” and there, at the open window, he put his arm about her waist and did that unnecessary thing true lovers seem unable to resist. She jumped away to turn with an anxious face and look cautiously through the window. But the distant haymakers gave no signs of having received a shock. “Could they have seen?” she demanded. He looked over upon the sunlit field. “No, poor things, they missed it!”