Sincerely and gratefully,
Rose Bonner Brentwood.
"It couldn't be improved on," declared Mother, beamingly. "It's just what I'd have wanted her to say if I'd been planning it all out, only more so!"
"It's all right!" said Father, excitedly, "but that's one thing we forgot. We'd ought to have sent her word we would meet her at the station, and what time the train left Grant's Junction, and all! Now that's too bad!"
"Now don't you worry, Father. She'll find her way. Like as not the conductor will have a time-table and be able to tell her all about the trains. But I certainly do wish we had let her know we would meet her."
They were still worrying about it that night at nine o'clock while Father wound the kitchen clock and Mother put a mackerel asoak for breakfast. Suddenly the telephone in the next room gave a whir, and both Father and Mother jumped as if they had been shot, looking at each other in bewildered question as they hastened to the 'phone.
It was Father who took down the receiver. "A telegram? For Mr. Seth Marshall! Yes, I'm listening! Write it down, Mother! A telegram!"
"Mercy! Perhaps she wasn't well enough to start!" gasped mother, putting her pencil in place.
Miss Brentwood left to-night at nine-fifteen on express number ten, car Alicia lower berth number eight. Please let me know if she arrives safely.
Paul Courtland.
"Now isn't that thoughtful of him!" he said, as he hung up the receiver. "He must have sensed we wanted to send her word, and now we can do it!"