"Where's mine?"
Lafe held up his empty hands.
"You may search me! Somebody's forgotten this time!"
"Come here," commanded Ivy.
Lafe advanced, wearing a guileless expression until Ivy ran her hand into his empty coat pocket, and fumbling round, found a snug space in the lining and brought forth the missing epistle.
"Of course I couldn't fool her in that," mused Lafe sheepishly, when he read the contents of his high titled note:
YOU ARE CORDIALLY INVITED TO A GARDEN PARTY AT THE TOWERS ON WEDNESDAY, SEPTEMBER THE FIRST. HOURS 1:30 TO 8 P. M. |
The opening of the mail, always an important event in the town, had proved a pleasantly exciting one that day.
There was a shower of white envelopes from the little square window. Almost everyone who called received one or more, according to the number of children in the family; many regular inquirers who were never known to get even a circular, were at last rewarded, and proudly waved their little white banners so that all the world might see. The unusually large number of mail-bearing pedestrians gave Main Street a gala air.
Ivy, on watch at the window, hugged herself and smiled contentedly, for was she not one of the conspirators who, in league with the Post-office Department, had sent all those little white flags a-flutter through the town?