At this Raymond found that he could laugh, and just then the hatchet fell, for Doctor Martin had entered the arena and Mrs. Tweksbury had agreed to help.
"Do you remember my speaking of that niece of Miss Fletcher's last spring?" she asked.
"Yes. I do recall it. Wasn't she to come here—or something like that?"
"Yes, she was, but she isn't. Doris Fletcher has brought her girl up to town herself and the old house is opened. I called there the other day. Ken, that girl is the loveliest thing I ever saw!"
"Is she?" Raymond was sitting on the edge of the table in Mrs. Tweksbury's dressing room. When she got through talking he was going to bed. He had to stifle a yawn.
"Yes, she is. She's not only the prettiest girl I've seen for many a year, but she's the girl."
"For what?" Raymond swung his lifted foot while he balanced with the other.
"For you, Ken!" The crash unsettled Raymond and he brought his free foot to the floor.
"Oh! come," he blurted; "don't begin that sort of rubbish, Aunt Emily. I thought you were above that."
"I'm not, Ken. I would go slow if I dared, but this girl will be snapped up before we get in touch with her, unless we act quick."