"It is very pleasant here now; in the winter it is very cold."
Then there came another interval of perplexity and consultation as to the signature. Captain 'Lisha had nothing better to offer than the "obedient servant" which represented his own relation to the officials at Washington. But to this Tilly stoutly objected.
"I ain't going to say I 'm his obedient servant!" she exclaimed defiantly. "I 'll just sign my name, and nothing more."
"You might say your friend, I should think," said her mother, hesitatingly. "I don't think anybody ends off letters with just the name. I never saw one."
"Well, all the letters we ever have are from real friends or relations, said Tilly, firmly. "This is very different. I don't suppose it 's often anybody does write to a person they don't know."
Mrs. Bennet persisted in her argument for a more friendly ending; but on this point Tilly was firm, and the queer, stiff little letter went off, with its incongruous pink cupids hovering, like false colors at a mast-head, above the curt, cool sentences, and the brusque signature, "Matilda Bennet."
After the letter had gone, Mrs. Bennet frequently referred to it. The incident had really stirred her imagination more than it had Tilly's.
"I should n't wonder if that soldier wrote to you
