Robert Carey was to be Graham's best man, a decision which pleased Peggy immensely. Most of the ushers were young men the girls knew more or less, though Graham had included in the number a comparative new-comer at the office, Kennedy by name, with whom he was on especially friendly terms. "You ought to bring him out some evening," suggested Peggy, "and not wait till just before the wedding to introduce him."
"No, that's right. I'll ask him to-morrow to set a time."
When Graham appeared shortly after dinner the following evening, Peggy and Priscilla were addressing invitations. Graham seated himself lazily in the arm chair and congratulated them on their industry. "Have you addressed all that pile to-day?"
"Yes, sir. We've been working ever since I got back from the dressmaker's, about four o'clock. Priscilla stayed to dinner so as not to lose any time."
There was a brief silence. Two pairs of pens scratched busily while Graham entertained himself by watching the anxious pucker of Peggy's mouth as she wrote each new address. "By the way," he remarked, "He's coming out to-night."
"Who is?"
"Kennedy."
The scratching of the pens came to an abrupt stop. "Priscilla," Peggy cried in tones of horror, "Graham has asked that Mr. Kennedy to call and he's coming this evening."
"You told me to ask him," Graham defended himself.
"Of course, I want him to come. But I don't want him to descend on me without warning, and get the impression that you are going to marry a frump."