"Miss Pierson! Miss Pierson!" Mrs. Elwood's voice was heard in the hall at the foot of the stairs.
Anne sprang to the door. "Here I am, Mrs. Elwood," she called, stepping down the hall to the head of the stairs.
"Here's a telegram for you. Will you please come downstairs and sign for it?"
Anne hurried down the stairs, her heart beating violently. She signed the messenger boy's book, shoved the pencil into his hand and ran back to Grace as fast as her feet would carry her.
"It's a telegram, Grace. It's for me. I'm afraid to open it," she cried, dashing into the room. "Open it. I dare not. Oh, if anything has happened to Mother or Mary!"
Grace took the envelope Anne held out to her. Her own hands were trembling with apprehension, yet she managed to tear open the envelope and draw out the fateful message. There was the crackling sound of unfolding paper, then Grace cried out in joyful tones: "Anne, you never can guess! It is too good to be true!"
Anne sprang to her feet, and darting to where Grace stood, the open telegram in her hands, peered over her shoulder. A moment later she and Grace joined hands and performed a joyful dance about the room.
"What on earth is the cause of all this jubilation?" queried Miriam's voice from the doorway. "I knocked, but no one paid any attention to me. It sounded from the outside as though you might be engaged in deadly conflict, so I decided to interfere."
The dance ceased and Grace thrust the telegram, which she still held, into Miram's hands. "Read it," she commanded.
"Will arrive in Overton 5:30. Meet me. With love. Rose Gray."