Ward found a real joy in his children. It was not lost upon him that they were making the best of circumstances for which in a somewhat bewildered fashion he felt himself responsible. Their very kindness, their disposition to make the best of things, hurt him and deepened his growing sense of defeat. John began talking of a case they were to try shortly. He had found some decisions that supported the contention of their client. They were explaining it to Helen, who teased them by perversely taking the opposite view, when they were silenced by an exclamation from Mrs. Ward. “Here’s news indeed! This is a note from Mrs. Campbell, the Ruth Sanders who was my best friend at school,--Mrs. Walter Scott Campbell,” she added impressively, looking round at them over her glasses. “It’s short; I’ll just read it: “DEAREST IPHIGENIA:-- (“You know the girls at Miss Woodburn’s school always called me Iphigenia--due to a stupid answer I once gave in the literature class.) “It’s so sweet of you to remember me year after year with a Christmas card. The very thought of you always brings up all the jolly times we had at Miss Woodburn’s. We parted with a promise to meet every year; and I have never set eyes on you since we sat side by side at the closing exercises! The class letter doesn’t come around any more, but your children must be grown up. Mine are very much so and getting married and leaving Walter and me quite forlorn. (“Her daughter Angela married into that Thornton family of Rhode Island--or maybe it was the Connecticut branch--who are so terribly rich; made it in copper; no, I believe it was rubber.) “Don’t be startled, but Mr. Campbell and I are planning to go to California next month, and as we have to pass right across your state, it seems absurd not to stop and see you. I’ve looked up the timetables and we can easily leave the Limited at Cleveland and run down to Kernville. Now don’t go to any trouble for us, but treat us just as old friends and if it isn’t convenient to stay with you for a night--we just must have a night to gossip about the old days--we can put up at the hotel. We shan’t leave here until February 17, but wishing to acknowledge your card--I never can remember to send Christmas cards--I thought I’d give you fair warning of our approach. Always, dear Iphigenia, your affectionate, RUTH.” “That’s a charming letter!” Helen volunteered, as her mother’s gaze invited approval of Mrs. Campbell’s graciousness in promising a visit. “She must be lovely!” “Ruth was the dearest of all my girlhood friends! When she had typhoid and her family were in Europe I was able to do little things for her;--nothing really of importance--but she has never forgotten. She was so appreciative and generous and always wanted her friends to share her good times!”