By that light I knew Alan Fraser must have returned from his long sojourn abroad , for it only shone when he was at Glenellyn . He still lived there , something of a hermit , people said ; he had never married , and he cared nothing for society . His companions were books and dogs and horses ; he was given to scientific researches and wrote much for the reviews ; he travelled a great deal . So much I knew in a vague way . I even saw him occasionally in church , and never thought the years had changed him much , save that his face was sadder and sterner than of old and his hair had become iron-grey . People said that he had inherited and cherished the old hatred of the Shirleys -- that he was very bitter against us . I believed it . He had the face of a good hater -- or lover -- a man who could play with no emotion but must take it in all earnestness and intensity . When it was quite dark the housekeeper brought in the lights and handed me a letter which , she said , a man had just brought up from the village post office . I looked at it curiously before I opened it , wondering from whom it was . It was postmarked from a city several miles away , and the firm , decided , rather peculiar handwriting was strange to me . I had no correspondents . After Father 's death I had received a few perfunctory notes of condolence from distant relatives and family friends . They had hurt me cruelly , for they seemed to exhale a subtle spirit of congratulation on my being released from a long and unpleasant martyrdom of attendance on an invalid , that quite overrode the decorous phrases of conventional sympathy in which they were expressed . I hated those letters for their implied injustice . I was not thankful for my `` release . '' I missed Father miserably and longed passionately for the very tasks and vigils that had evoked their pity . This letter did not seem like one of those . I opened it and took out some stiff , blackly written sheets . They were undated and , turning to the last , I saw that they were unsigned .
With a not unpleasant tingling of interest I sat down by my desk XXXXX read .
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