Eleanor H. Porter

“ Come, let's go find Rover," he finished, stooping and lifting the small boy to his shoulder. The next moment the dining-room door had banged behind them.
"Dear, dear!" laughed Mrs. Clayton, a little hysterically, turning to her husband. "You don't happen to be expecting a letter, do you, Charles?"
"I do happen to be—and a very important one, too," returned the man; and Mrs. Clayton, after a nervous glance at his frowning face, subsided into her chair with a murmured word of regret. When luncheon was over she slipped from the room and joined in the hunt for Rover. ”

“ The air was electric with unrest, and the food almost untouched. It was Mrs. Clayton who broke the long silence that followed the morning's greetings.
"I—I don't think I'll do much to get ready for the Bixbys," she began; "I'm so sure that letter was from them."
"You mean that, Julia?" demanded her husband, brightening. "Are you really positive?"
"Yes, really positive. They said all the time that they did n't think they could come, and that without doubt I should get a letter saying so."
"Then of course 't was it," asserted Ethel, her face suddenly clearing. ”

“ James Clayton was reported to be indisposed. Yet, two hours later, after a sharp peal of the doorbell and a hasty knocking at his chamber door by the maid, James Clayton left the house; and one who met him on the steps said that his face was certainly not that of a sick man.
It was after breakfast the next morning, before the family had dispersed, that Ethel rushed headlong into the dining-room.
"Oh, James, James!" she cried breathlessly. "It was your letter that Rover had, and here 't is!"
"But it was n't," retorted the young man airily. "I got mine last night—special delivery." ”