"That telegram is from Aunt Felicia, I know," said Ruth. "She has
set her heart on my coming up to Geneseo, but I cannot go, Jack. I
don't want to be a minute away from you."
Jack had now broken the seal and was scanning the contents.
Instantly his face grew grave.
"No--it's not from Aunt Felicia," he said in a thoughtful tone,
his eyes studying the despatch. "I don't know whom it's from; it
is signed T. Ballantree; I never heard of him before. He wants me
to meet him at the Astor House to-day at eleven o'clock. Some
business of your father's, I expect--see, it's dated Morfordsburg.
Too bad, isn't it, blessed--but I must go. Here, boy"--this to the
messenger, who was moving out of the door--"stop at the livery
stable as you go by and tell them I won't want the horse and
wagon, that I'm going to New York. All in a life-time, my
blessed--but I'm dreadfully sorry."
"And you MUST go? Isn't it mean, Jack--and it's such a lovely
day."
"Yes--but it can't be helped. What are you going to do with the
sandwiches and chicken and things? And you had so much trouble
making them.
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