She studied the envelope with its Arizona postmark and made sure that it was directed to her. Then she tore it open to find a penciled note inside that read: "_Dear little Firebrand sister of mine:_ "I am almost everything that you accused me of being, except my appearance, and that is a little better than you feared. To prove it to you I am going to come in person to see you and then we can talk over all those worrying things you spoke of. Until I get there please try and think a little better of me than you have through all your short, little life, and please believe that I am heartily ashamed of myself, but that I solemnly promise to make up for it in the future. "Your affectionate big brother, "TOMMY." Janet read the letter over three times and then she sat down on the carriage block and read it again. Harry watched her and shook his head. He had no doubts now that Janet was anything but an ordinary, and by ordinary he meant queer and unreasonable, girl. "Now, what's the matter!" he asked again, this time very forlornly. "Matter?" Janet's laugh rang out happily. "Not a single thing in all this wide wide world, Harry!" she exclaimed. "Then what are you crying about?" he demanded. Janet brushed away the two big tears that had filled her eyes, and jumped up. "I'm not crying, silly," she denied hotly. "Anyway you wouldn't understand. I'm going home. Good-by." "Well, I'm darn glad I can't," was Harry's parting, and he walked off in the opposite direction. Janet read her letter all the way home. It was such a surprise, for she had quite given up all hopes of ever finding the letter she had written a month before. She had never entertained the idea of receiving an answer, and such an answer, full of every sort of promise. And he was coming, and coming soon. She consulted the postmark and found that the letter had been in the post office six days. The sight of Martha still patiently beating rugs was unbearable. She hurried into the house and took the rest of the mail to her grandmother. As she handed them to her, she saw to her surprise that one of them was from her brother. Perhaps he was writing to tell her that he was coming home, and that would make it unnecessary for her to mention her letter. "A letter from your brother," Mrs. Page said solemnly. "Please wait, Janet, and I will read you what he says." She opened the letter with her customary precision and read it first to herself. Apparently she thought better of her promise to read it aloud, for she folded it up and put it back into its envelope. "Your brother is well," she said at last, "and he is coming home. This letter is a week old so that I imagine he will be here before long. Please tell Martha not to make so much noise in the hall and don't say anything to any one about Thomas's proposed visit." "But, grandmother, why in the world not!" Janet could not help saying.