The door opened and “the boy” came in, silently laid a letter on the table, and went out again. Stuart took it up and opened it. Palma looked up from her work. “Why—this is the rent bill. I thought it came Saturday. Where is that letter that came?” Stuart inquired. “On the corner of the mantelpiece. I’ll get it for you,” said Palma; and she arose and handed him the letter. He took it and gazed at it. “I don’t know the handwriting at all,” he said meditatively, “and it is postmarked ‘Wolfswalk, West Virginia.’ I should think it was intended for some one else, if my name was not such an uncommon one, and certainly there is no one else in this house that bears it.” And he turned it over and over and scrutinized it after the strange manner of people who receive a mysterious letter and play with their own curiosity by delaying to open it. At length he broke the envelope and unfolded the letter. First of all he turned to the signature, which was at the bottom of the fourth page, so that he did not happen to open the sheet and find what lay between the leaves. “‘John Cleve!’” he exclaimed. “Why, dear Palma, this is from my old bachelor great-uncle, who, I thought, had been gathered to his fathers ages ago. He must be at least eighty years old.” “Oh, Cleve, read it to me! I never knew you had an uncle,” said Palma, dropping her work and coming and leaning over the back of his chair so that she could look at the open letter. Cleve read as follows: “WOLFSWALK, WEST VIRGINIA, “November 25, 186—. “MY DEAR GRAND-NEPHEW: You will be surprised to get a letter from me, of whom you can have but little memory, as you have not seen me since you were a babe of three years old, when your dear mother—my dear and only niece—brought you to my house. “Since her lamented death, in Mississippi, I had completely lost sight of you, thinking of you as in the hands of competent guardians during your minority, and of leading a prosperous life as an active planter on your estate since your majority. I thought of writing to you, but neglected to do so. How families do get separated in this world, to be sure, neglecting each other, forgetting each other, like aliens! “Several circumstances have occurred to bring you forcibly to my mind of late. First, the fact that my two grand-nephews, Frank and James, sole descendants of my only nephew, Charles, fell on the field of Cold Harbor, fighting for their native State. They died unmarried. This leaves you my sole heir. “As soon as I learned this fact I wrote to you in Mississippi, but failed to get a letter from you. I wrote to the postmaster of your post office there, and learned from him that you had been an absentee from home for many years. “Then I thought of advertising for you, but so hated the plan that I delayed putting it in execution.