The address was a street in Holborn.
Juliet read the letter through, and straightway read it through again, with a beating heart. What did it mean? Was it possible she was going to find her own family at last?
She was recalled to the present by the voice of Dora, whom she now perceived to be reading the letter over her shoulder with unblushing interest.
"Say," said Dora, "isn't it exciting? 'Something to your advantage!' Just what they put in the agony column when they leave you a fortune. I bet your long-lost uncle in the West has kicked the bucket, and left you all his ill-gotten gains. Mark my words. You'll come back from England a lovely heiress. I do wish the others would come in. There's no one in the house, except Sir Arthur."
"Where is he?" said Juliet, putting the sheet of paper back into the envelope and slipping it under her waistband. "You know, Dora, it's not at all a nice thing to read other people's letters. I wonder you aren't ashamed of yourself. I'm surprised at you."
"I shouldn't have read it if you'd been quicker about telling me what was in it," retorted Dora. "It's not at all a nice thing to put temptation in the way of a little girl like me. Do you suppose I'm made of cast iron?"
She departed with an injured air, and Juliet went to look for the consul.
"What is it?" he asked, as she put the envelope into his hand. "A letter you want me to read? Not a proposal, eh?" He smiled at her as he unfolded the large sheet of office paper.
"Hullo, what's this?"
He read it through carefully.
"Why, Juliet," he said, when he had finished, "this is very interesting, isn't it? It looks as if you were going to find out something about yourself, doesn't it? After all these years! Well, well."
"You think I must go, then," she said a little doubtfully.
"Go? Of course I should go, if I were you. Why not?"
"You don't think it is a hoax?"
"No, no; I see no reason to suppose such a thing. I know the firm of Findlay & Ince quite well by name and reputation."
"Oh, I hope they will tell me who I am!" cried Juliet. "Have you no idea at all, father?"
"No, my dear, you know I have not. Besides, I promised Lena I would never ask. You are the child of a friend of hers. That is all I know. I think she scarcely realized how hard it would be for you not to know more when you grew up. I often think that if she had lived she would have told you before now."