The postman came up on the porch and whistled, and the door opened—like a sort of cuckoo clock—and Cousin Winnie took in the letters. But what a long time she was in the hall!
“I suppose she’s got another letter from a cousin,” thought Lucy. “If there was anything for me—But I don’t care, anyhow.”
At last Cousin Winnie came into the dining room.
“A letter for you, Lucy,” she said, handed it to her child, and vanished. With the utmost indifference Lucy opened her letter. It contained two tickets for “The Maddened Brute” for Saturday afternoon, an[Pg 426] explanation of the difficulty of getting them, and a very civil request that she and her mother meet Stephen Ordway for lunch at the Ritz before the play.
Not yet being thirty, the girl was pleased.
“Mother!” she called. “Isn’t this nice? Listen—”
No answer. She got up and went into the kitchen, and found her mother standing by the window—just standing, doing nothing. This was alarming.
“Mother!” she said. “What’s wrong?”
“Lucy—” said her mother. “Oh, Lucy! Oh, think of it! You can travel! You can have really nice clothes!” She was actually in tears.
“What is the matter?” cried Lucy. And then: “What’s this?”