"I rather feel that it is her right to deliver it." May passed it back, but she looked so disappointed, that by how she felt I knew how much I wanted to take it myself; so I reached my hand to her and said: "You can come along! We'll both take it! Oh where is she ?" "She went down in the orchard," said mother.

"I think probably she's gone back where she was the other day." Gee, but we ran! And there she was! As we came up, she heard us and turned.
"Shelley!" I cried.

"Here's your letter! Everything is all right! He's coming, Shelley! Look quick, and see when! Mother will want to begin baking right away!" Shelley looked at me, and said coolly: "Paddy Ryan! What's the matter ?" "Your letter!" I cried, shoving it right against her hands.

"Your letter from Robert! From the Paget man, you know! I told you he was coming! Hurry, and see when!" She took it, and sat there staring at it, so much like father, that it made me think of him, so I saw that she was going to have to come around to it as we did, and that one couldn't hurry her.

She just had to take her time to sense it.
"Shall I open it for you ?" I asked, merely to make her see that it was time she was doing it herself.
Blest if she didn't reach it toward me!--sort of woodenlike.