Helen, with difficulty bringing her eyes to meet the dark tidings, began to read:
So sorry we are obliged to change our plans and cannot pay you the visit to which we had looked forward with so much pleasure——
“It’s horrible! It’s positively tragic,” sobbed Mrs. Ward, groping for her handkerchief.
“Hurry on, Helen!” ordered John. “There’s a lot more of it.”
Walter feels that he ought to attend a conference of Southern bankers unexpectedly called for February eighteen at Baltimore, and we are obliged to defer the California trip indefinitely. However, we are going down in the yacht and Walter has happily solved the whole problem by insisting that you all come to New York and make the cruise with us.
“Glory! glory hallelujah!” John shouted.
The yacht is big enough to be comfortable for even a poor sailor like me, so we can have a cosy time together. We want your husband, son and daughter to come of course, and you will be our guests throughout the journey. The Manager of the Transcontinental will put his private car at your disposal. Do wire at once that you will come. With much love.
Ruth Campbell.
“Can you beat it! Can you beat it!” cried John.
“After all this talk—and the publicity and everything——” his mother began plaintively.