Instantly she thought of Jefferson, and she hurried to intercept the man.

Perhaps he had written instead of coming.
"Miss Shirley Rossmore ?" said the man eyeing her interrogatively.
"That's I," said Shirley.
The postman handed her a letter and passed on.

Shirley glanced quickly at the superscription.

No, it was not from Jefferson; she knew his handwriting too well.

The envelope, moreover, bore the firm name of her publishers.