"Lord warrant us, sis, no! 'Twas writ this very day. What o'clock is it?"
She ran to the window and looked down the street toward the clock on the Royal Exchange.
"Three i' the afternoon," she muttered. "The time is short. Shall I? Shall I not?"
"Talkin' o' letters," said Rebecca, suddenly, "I wish'd you take one down to the Post-Office fer me, Phoebe." She rose and went to a drawer in the dressing-table. "Here's one 't I wrote to Cousin Jane in Keene. I thought she might be worried about where we'd got to, an' so I've written an' told her we're in London."
"The Post-Office--" Phoebe began, laughingly. Then she checked herself. Why undeceive her sister? Here was the excuse she had been seeking.
"Yes; an' I told her more'n that," Rebecca continued. "I told her that jest's soon as the Panchronicle hed got rested and got its breath, we'd set off quick fer home--you an' me. Thet's so, ain't it, Phoebe?" she concluded, with plaintive anxiety in her voice.
"I'll take the letter right along," said Phoebe, with sudden determination.
But Rebecca would not at once relax her hold on the envelope.
"That's so, ain't it, dearie?" she insisted. "Won't we make fer home as soon's we can?"
"Sis," said Phoebe, gravely, "an I be not deeply in error, thou art right. Now give me the letter."
Rebecca relinquished the paper with a sigh of relief, then looked up in surprise at Phoebe, who was laughing aloud.
"Why, here's a five-cent stamp, as I live!" she cried. "Where did it come from?"
"I hed it in my satchel," said Rebecca. "Ain't that the right postage?"
"Yes--yes," said Phoebe, still laughing. "And now for the Post-Office!"
She donned her coif and high-crowned hat with silver braid, and leaned over Rebecca, who had seated herself, to give her a good-by kiss.
"Great sakes!" exclaimed Rebecca, as she received the unaccustomed greeting. "You do look fer all the world like one o' the Salem witches in Peter Parley's history, Phoebe."
With a light foot and a lighter heart for all its beating, Phoebe ran down the street unperceived from the house.
"Bishopsgate!" she sang under her breath. "The missive named Bishopsgate. He'll meet me within the grove outside the city wall."
Her feet seemed to know the way, which was not over long, and she arrived without mishap at the gate.