I sh'd think she _would_ have had a headache,--but thar," he added, rising suddenly and beginning to search in his capacious pockets, "I declar' for 't, if I hain't forgotten Huldy's letter! Sary an' her bunnit put everything else out of my head." Hilda sprang up in delight to receive the envelope which the farmer handed to her; but her face fell a little when she saw that it was not from her parents.

She reflected, however, that she had had a double letter only two days before, and that she could not expect another for a week, as Mr.and Mrs.Graham wrote always with military punctuality.
There was no doubt as to the authorship of the letter.

The delicate pointed handwriting, the tiny seal of gilded wax, the faint perfume which the missive exhaled, all said to her at once, "Madge Everton." With a feeling which, if not quite reluctance, was still not quite alacrity, Hildegarde broke the pretty seal, with its Cupid holding a rose to his lips, and read as follows:-- SARATOGA, July 20.
MY DEAREST, SWEETEST HILDA,--Can it be possible that you have been away a whole month, and that I have not written to you?
I am awfully ashamed! but I have been so TOO busy, it has been out of the question.

Papa decided quite _suddenly_ to come here instead of going to Long Branch; and you can imagine the _frantic_ amount of work Mamma and I had to get ready.

One has to dress so _much_ at Saratoga, you know; and we cannot just send an order to _Paris_, as _you_ do, my dear Queen, for all we want, but have to _scratch round_ (I know you don't allow your subjects to use slang, but we DO scratch round, and nothing else can express it), and get things made here.