“I’m more sorry than I can tell you, old fellow,” he wrote. “Roger will have to take my place and give you all my good wishes with his own. You may congratulate me, too, for I’ve just got word that my step has come. I can now sign myself,
“Your affectionate brother,
“Roger Morton,
“Capt. U.S.N.”
There was great rejoicing in the Morton family when they learned this news, and telegrams poured in on them all day long after the announcement was publicly made.
“It gives one more touch of happiness,” smiled Richard Morton, who went about beaming. He had to content himself with the companionship of his daughter, for his betrothed was too busy to give him much time. Probably this was a good thing, for it made her father’s visit much as it always had been to Ethel Blue, and did not impress on her too abruptly the idea of their new relation.
It was at the meeting of the U. S. C. held very soon after the housewarming that the members decided to give a breakfast in celebration of the wedding and of Ethel Blue’s departure from Rosemont.
“We’ll call it a breakfast, but we’ll have it rather late,” said Helen.
“Why?” growled Roger hungrily. “I like my morning nourishment early.”
“It’s going to be out on our terrace, and it’s getting to be late in the season and if it’s too cold we can’t have it there,” said Dorothy.
“Put in your glass windows and have it at a civilized hour,” implored Roger.
Dorothy looked at Helen.
“I’ll ask Mother if she won’t do that,” she said. “Then we can have a fire in the open fireplace out there if it should be really frosty. I forgot we had all those comforts!”