“Well,” replied Jim, rising and filling his pipe, “if I was doing the writing, I should probably know what was coming next; but as you are doing it, I have not the slightest idea.” “Now, Jim, don’t be mean,” coaxed Norine; “you might help a little, you know.” But Jim would not help, and sauntered out to do his chores, leaving Norine alone in her perplexity. She managed to emerge, however, by the time he returned, with the following result: “DEAR AUNT DARLING: My brother and I have tried so often to write to you without succeeding, that I have determined to make the attempt alone this time. We know, dear aunt, that you never forgave our poor, dear mother for having married your brother, and we are sorry for it. “But years have passed since then, and they are both dead. I do not mean to ask your forgiveness for them--I only want to tell you how happy we are--my brother and I--and how very much we want to love you, if you will only let us. “You must be very lonesome, dear aunt, and I hope you will come to us. We have plenty of everything, and we wish to share with you, and will try very hard to make you happy. “Forget what has passed, dear aunt. Come to us, and let us love you and care for you. Believe me, you will be very welcome. Your niece, “NORINE BRIGHT.” “There, Jim,” she said nervously, “please don’t laugh at it, for I feel sure that aunt will understand what I mean. Seal it up and direct it for me, that’s a good Jim.” He took the letter from her hand, and coolly opened it. “That is pretty good, Norry,” he said, with condescending patronage; “almost as good as I could do myself; only”--and he hesitated a little--“don’t you think you are a trifle too affectionate to an entire stranger?” “She is our aunt, dear,” replied Norine. “Yes, I know that, and I don’t mind giving her a little of my bountiful affection, seeing my sister does not need it all; but, you see, I would like to know how she will take it first. I would not care to have my offers rejected.” “I don’t think she will reject our offers,” said Norine softly. “Anyway, I am willing to risk it; so seal it up, like a good boy.” Jim did as she wished without further parley, and the next day went to the village for the purpose of mailing it. And so it came about in this chapter of accidents that, on his return from this charitable errand, he found a strange gentleman at his house. At present, the strange gentleman was too ill to do any harm; but I do not think that Jim was greatly pleased to find him there. It was long after noon before Norine had finished her baking and other household duties, and resumed her place in the sick man’s chamber. He was awake, and Norine could not fail to see the flush of pleasure that welcomed her arrival. “Was there anything he would like?” she inquired. “Yes, a drink.”