“’Ere’s a letter fer ye,” Ma Babcock rejoined.
“Must be from Dorothy. Can’t think of anyone else writing me, can you? I’ll open it and see.
“Oh, ma! Listen, listen! Dear Dorothy wants me right away. Oh, how can I get to her; you couldn’t get on without me, now. Oh, dear, oh dear,” wailed Alfy, most in tears.
“Alfaretta Babcock, come to your senses. A big girl like you, crying,” scolded Ma Babcock. “Tell me what Dorothy says in her letter.”
Alfaretta, reading—
“Dear, dear Alfy—.
“In two weeks I start on my concert tour, and as I had not expected to go for more than a month at least, I want you to come and stay with me and I’ve got such a good proposition to make you. I will be very busy and will need you to help me get my clothes and things together. Oh, Alfy, dear, please, please come. Don’t you disappoint me. I just must see you again. It’s been such an awful long time since you have stayed with me. Tell Ma Babcock she simply must let you come. Metty will meet you at the station. Take the noon train. Give my love to all the little Babcocks and to ma. Tell ma, Baretta and Claretta can help her while you are away, and I am sure that Matthew will help too. Oh, Alfy, do, do come. With love,
“Ever your affectionate,
“Dorothy.
“There, ma, that’s what she says.”