“No.”
“Dorinda says Mrs. Colton is an invalid. Poor woman! it must be hard to be ill when one has so much to enjoy. Dorinda says they have a very pretty daughter.”
I made no comment. I was not interested in pretty daughters, just then. The memory of the girl in the auto was too fresh in my mind.
“Did you go to the post-office, Roscoe?” asked Mother. “I suppose there were no letters. There seldom are.”
Then I remembered the letter in my pocket. I had forgotten it altogether.
“Why, yes, there was a letter, a letter for me. I haven't read it yet.”
I took the envelope from my pocket and drew out the enclosure. The latter was a note, very brief and very much to the point. I read it.
“Well, by George!” I exclaimed, angrily.
“What is it, Roscoe?”
“It appears to be a summons from what Captain Jed called the King of New York. A summons to appear at court.”