“You little pink blossom,” she said, with feeling, “I’ll tell you all the nice things I can think of, one of these days. In the meantime I must go home; and remember, Eurie, you are not to do anything dreadful of any sort without telling Flossy and me beforehand.”
“I won’t,” said Eurie, with a conscious laugh, and the trio separated.
Two hours later Marion Wilbur was the recipient of the following note:
“Dear Marion:—
“I promised to tell you—though I don’t intimate that this comes under your prescribed limit of things ‘awful.’ Still, I want to tell you. I am almost sorry that I have not been like little Flossy, and talked it all over freely with you. Someway I couldn’t seem to. The truth is, I am to be married, in six week’s time, to Mr. Harrison. Think of my being a minister’s wife! But he is going away from here and perhaps I can learn. There! the ice is broken; now I can tell you about it. Come as soon as you can, and, as Flossy says, ‘Have a quiet little confidence.’ Lovingly,
“Eurie.”
It was about this very hour that Eurie opened and looked at, in a maze of astonishment and bewilderment, a dainty envelope, of special size and design, from which there fell Marion Wilbur’s wedding-cards!