She believed that she sometimes had a kind of second-sight about letters, and could tell before she read them whether they brought good or evil tidings.

She put this one down on the table in front of her while she poured her tea.

At last, with a little shiver of expectancy, she tore open the envelope and read:-- Boston, February -- MY DEAR HILDA:-- It is after twelve o'clock.

Every one else is in bed and I am sitting alone in my study.

I have been happier in this room than anywhere else in the world.