The plan seemed to offer pleasant possibilities, and they both settled themselves comfortably in the cool living-room to pass the morning. The book was well begun and the embroidery advancing rapidly, when Eliza came in with a letter just left in the box, and deposited it on the library table. "It's for the captain," she announced, as she turned away. Marcia jumped up and scrutinized the writing. "Oh, Janet!" she exclaimed at once; "it's from the major!" "It is?" cried her friend, apprehensively. "Then it's some more horrid news he's unearthed. I'm certain of it! Not a letter comes from him but it's something to worry us more. I just hate the sight of them!" "Yes; and what's more," moaned Marcia, "we can't even know what's in this one till Father comes home this evening. Why, I feel as if I'd go crazy, having to wait all that time!" "Well, you'll have to wait," commented Janet, philosophically, "so you might as well do it as peacefully as you can. Come, let's go on with our book." It was all very well to speak philosophically about the matter, however, but to _act_ so was a different affair. Try as they might, they could not, from that moment, concentrate their minds on the pleasant program they had mapped out for themselves. A dozen times during the morning Marcia would stop reading and glance speculatively at the unopened letter. A dozen times Janet left her fancy-work and strolled over to inspect the superscription anew. The French pastry at luncheon failed to soothe them, and the candy in the afternoon remained uneaten. At three o'clock they took to staring out of the window to watch for the captain's return. And as they watched they detailed to each other the various things they surmised might be in the major's letter. Marcia asserted that he had probably discovered the second wife's name to be Treadwell, thus confirming their worst fears. And Janet declared that he had no doubt ascertained just why Cecily had been sent to the Benedict home. Perhaps it was even to prevent her being sent back to China to her mandarin grandfather. Nothing they could imagine was too dreadful to fit into the scheme of things. By half past five they were the most miserable pair of girls in the big city. And at that moment, they heard the captain's key in the hall door. "Quick! quick! quick!" they breathlessly panted at him, explaining nothing, but only waving the major's letter in his face. Asking no questions, he took it, slit it open, and glanced hurriedly through the contents. Then he gave a long, low whistle. "Oh, tell us!" groaned Marcia. "What more that's quite horrible has he found out?"