“Oh, Lucy, you know you always were my favorite che-ild,” begged Evelyn, melodramatically. “I’ll destroy the old will and make a new one, leaving everything——”
“To me,” finished Jessie, at the same time making a lunge at the tempting little pile of paper.
“Oh, go on!” cried Lucile, and, dodging out-stretched arms, made a dash for the door, only to be captured and brought back by two indignant and protesting girls to the sofa.
“Oh, we will be put out of the hotel,” gasped Lucile, between laughs. “We’re making no end of noise. Now, if you two girls will only sit down and behave like sensible—”
“Huh!” broke in Evelyn. “We were only demanding our just rights.”
“You would better hasten, Lucile Payton,” said Jessie, with her best heavy-villain scowl. “My patience is dangerously near an end.”
“All right,” Lucile capitulated, patting the sofa on either side of her invitingly. “Sit down here and I’ll hand them out just as they come.”
“And we’ll read each one aloud before we open the next one,” Jessie suggested, eagerly. 114
“That’s right,” assented Evelyn. “Whom is the first one from, Lucy?”
“The first one,” drawled Lucile, turning it up with aggravating deliberation, “is for Evelyn, from——”