CHAPTER II
THE HOUSE BEHIND THE WORLD
"How many letters for me, Bridget?" trilled Grace Harlowe as she raced across the lawn to the front steps with the reckless enthusiasm of a small boy. A glimpse of the postman's retreating back had brought her scurrying from the garden to collect her own.
"Sure and it's a deal of mail ye be always gettin', Miss Grace," commented Bridget proudly, as she handed the eager-faced questioner a small stack of letters that brought a sparkle of pleasant anticipation to Grace's gray eyes.
"More than I deserve, I am sorry to say. I'm by no means a perfect correspondent. Thank you, Bridget." With a bright little nod, Grace skipped joyfully up the steps and made harbor in the big porch swing. "I'll read them as they come," she decided, "then each one will be a fresh surprise. Hello! Here's Miriam first of all. That means Anne delivered my message." Hastily tearing open the envelope, Grace drew forth a single sheet of thick white paper and read:
"Dear Grace:
"How I wish I could suddenly drop in on you this morning for a long talk. There is so much I should like to tell you which I haven't time to write. Anne, the faithful, delivered your message. Don't worry about my not waiting for you. I won't buy even a paper of pins without your august sanction and approval. I am anxiously looking forward to seeing you. So are Kathleen, Anne, Arline and Mabel Ashe.
"Elfreda is with me. She is a never-failing joy, and to quote her pet phrase, 'I can see' that there will be a vast amount of celebrating done when you arrive. Please forgive me for not writing much this time. I am expecting Everett and his sister at any moment. We are going to motor down to their home on Long Island for the day. I have decided to put in the time usefully until they have arrived. Hence this fragmentary epistle. Kindly note my laudable promptness as a correspondent and fall in line. With much love,
"As always,
"Miriam."