"Great heavens!" Aunt Jane collapsed on the sofa. "And wasn't there any name signed to the letters?"
"Only the words 'From your unknown admirer.' I could not return the money, for I didn't know his name—until now. This letter I have just received gives his name."
"Who is it, dearie?" inquired Aunt Jane, confidentially, coming to Martha's side. "Perhaps I know him."
"His name is—but there, it doesn't matter." Martha turned away and put both letter and hundred-dollar bill into her handbag.
"It does matter," cried Aunt Jane, indignation and curiosity battling for supremacy. "This is a very serious thing. If a strange man sends a young girl hundreds of dollars, why, he must be crazy about you. Did he send you anything else?"
"A few trifles—some jewelry."
"Has he asked you to marry him?"
"What nonsense," laughed Martha. "He has only asked me to dinner."
"You must not go, Martha," said Aunt Jane, decisively. "You know Mr. Clayton wouldn't like you to take dinner with other gentlemen."
"Then why doesn't Mr. Clayton take me to dinner himself?" she cried passionately.