“No,” answered the artist. “He begged me to make his excuses and tell you that he was very sorry he couldn’t be present. He has a rather important piece of business on hand for this evening, I believe.”
Chub looked triumphantly at Roy and Dick with an “I-told-you-so” expression. But it was quite lost, for they were watching Harry’s face as she read the lines which the Licensed Poet had written on the fly-leaf of the book.
“Aren’t they beautiful?” she sighed finally, looking about the table.
“We don’t know,” laughed Roy. “Suppose you read them to us?”
But Harry shyly pushed the book to Mr. Cole.
“You do it, please,” she said.
“Very well,” answered the artist. “Here they are”:
TO MISS EMERY
ON HER SIXTEENTH BIRTHDAY