My godmother always writes to me then, and this must be from her, too.

Yes, it is, I know her handwriting." If Jake expected her to tear it open instantly and share the news with him before she had examined every inch of the big square envelope, he was disappointed.

The old blaze-faced sorrel had carried him out of sight before she had finished cutting it open with a pin.

Then she spread the letter out on her knees, drawing a long breath of pleasure as the faintest odour of violets floated up from the paper with its dainty monogram at the top.
Davy waited in silence, watching a flush spread over Betty's face as she read.

Her breath came short and her heart beat fast.
"Oh, Davy," she exclaimed, in a low, wondering tone.