“I’m so glad I thought of it,” she said to herself, quite proudly, and she held it in her hand all the way home lest she should forget to deliver it.
Mamma received the week-old note, and read it without any suspicion. It was dated, simply, “Wednesday morning.”
“This is from Mrs. Drayton,” she exclaimed to papa. “I’m so glad. She says that Mrs. Lynn will spend a day and night with her. She’s the famous lecturer, you know. She and Mrs. Drayton were school-mates. She comes very unexpectedly now, and Mrs. Drayton wants us to dine there to-night, very informally. The Camerons will be there—no one else. You can go, can’t you, dear?”
“Yes, it will suit me very well,” said papa.
After Cricket had left the room Mrs. Ward added,—
“She writes a postscript to say that she is planning a luncheon party for Emily, for her birthday on Saturday, as a surprise to her, and invites Eunice and Cricket. She is going to take the children, after, to the matinée, to see the ‘Old Homestead.’ Isn’t that just like Mrs. Drayton? Poor Eunice won’t be able to go unless her cold is very much better, but Cricket will be overjoyed. And she says not to tell the children till Friday, lest Emily should hear of it.”
Mamma was delighted at the chance of meeting Mrs. Lynn, who was a very noted woman, and she and papa went off in good season.
About half-past eight, to the surprise of the children, who were gathered in the sitting-room,—the younger ones always had permission to sit up a little later when their father and mother were out—the click of papa’s latchkey was heard in the door, and a moment after he and mamma entered the room.
“What is the matter? Are you ill?” came in a chorus.
“Nobody is ill,” said papa, looking queer.