"Yes. It came before we moved to Bolo. My elder daughter was teaching in the East, and was taken ill. Some of her girls wrote to us."
Genevieve sprang to her feet.
"Are you—you can't be—the Rev. Luke Jones!" she cried.
"That is my name."
"And is Quentina your daughter?"
It was the minister's turn to look amazed.
"Why, yes; but—how do you know? Are you—you can't be—my Happy Hexagons!" he ejaculated.
She nodded laughingly. She spoke, too; but what she said was not heard. All of the Happy Hexagons were talking by that time. The Rev. Mr. Jones, indeed, found himself besieged on all sides with eager questions and amazed comments.
Under cover of the confusion, Mr. Hartley turned in puzzled wonder to Mrs. Kennedy.
"Will you tell me what all this is about?" he begged.