"Then you are going to try?—of course you are," interposed Bertha.
Genevieve laughed lightly as she reached for a piece of fudge.
"I suppose so. I'm afraid everybody will expect me to. Aunt Julia has already expressed her opinion of the matter."
February passed, and March came. A new topic of conversation now arose, specially of interest to the Hexagon Club. Miss Sally was to be married early in April, and the Happy Hexagons were to be bridesmaids. Naturally, even the new prize contest had to step one side for that month, in the minds of the six joyously excited girls.
It was on a particularly windy Saturday toward the end of the month, that Cordelia literally blew up to the Kennedys' front door and rang the bell.
Genevieve herself, passing through the hall, opened the door.
"Br-r-r!" she laughed, as she banged the door shut after admitting the whirling draperies from which Cordelia's anxious little face finally emerged. "Why, Cordelia!"
"Yes, I know; I'm going to be at the club this afternoon, of course," panted Cordelia; "but this is for something I wanted to say to you—and I knew there wouldn't be a chance this afternoon. It—it's private, Genevieve."
"Good! I love secrets. Come into the sitting room. There's no one there this morning. Now, what is it?" she demanded, as soon as Cordelia's coat was off, and they were comfortably seated.