"Two or three. There is a Mrs. Smith in my C. L. S. C. class, and there is one who has a cottage near the Hall of Philosophy, and there's Mother's embroidery teacher at the art store—she's a Mrs. Smith."
"Do you know the first names of any of them?"
"I don't. Do you know Dorothy's mother's name, Ethel?"
"I don't know, Aunt Marion. I'll ask her to-morrow."
"We'll hunt every Smith to his lair," said the Captain seriously; "and your lair is where you ought to be at this minute, young woman. Kiss me 'Good night.'"
The next morning immediately after breakfast, Mrs. Morton and her brother-in-law started off on their quest of the Chautauqua Smiths. Both Ethels were eager to go too, but the elders thought that the fewer people there were about when the meeting took place the less embarrassing it would be for their Aunt Louise.
"If you really do find her here," exclaimed Helen, "Roger will have to acknowledge that there is some romance left in the world."
Mrs. Smith had not reached the art store when Captain and Mrs. Morton stopped there on their way up the hill, so they went on to the registration office and looked through the cards in the catalogue.
"Here are Smiths from every State in the Union, I should say. Warren, Ohio; San Francisco, California; Boston, Massachusetts; Galena, Illinois; Wichita, Kansas; Bartow, Florida—"
"You can't tell anything from those home addresses, for to tell you the truth, I was so excited at getting this Chautauqua address from the Chicago man that I forgot to ask him where she had been before."