"From Ramelton," answered Feversham. "I'll light a cigar first."
He laid the letter down on the garden table which stood between his
companion and himself, drew a cigar-case from his pocket, and in spite
of the impatience of Lieutenant Sutch, proceeded to cut and light it
with the utmost deliberation. The old man had become an epicure in this
respect. A letter from Ramelton was a luxury to be enjoyed with all the
accessories of comfort which could be obtained. He made himself
comfortable in his chair, stretched out his legs, and smoked enough of
his cigar to assure himself that it was drawing well. Then he took up
his letter again and opened it.
"From him?" asked Sutch.
"No; from her."
"Ah!"
General Feversham read the letter through slowly, while Lieutenant Sutch
tried not to peep at it across the table. When the general had finished
he turned back to the first page, and began it again.
"Any news?" said Sutch, with a casual air.
"They are very pleased with the house now that it's rebuilt."
"Anything more?"
"Yes. Harry's finished the sixth chapter of his history of the war."
"Good!" said Sutch. "You'll see, he'll do that well. He has imagination,
he knows the ground, he was present while the war went on.
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