“Cousin Rebekah Graves is coming this afternoon to spend the winter with us,” she volunteered. “What day can we bring her to Fort Myer, Tom?”

“Come this Friday——” he stopped speaking as Minerva appeared from the hall and approached Marjorie.

“Hyar’s a note done come fo’ yo’, Miss Marjorie, and de chuffer’s waitin’ fo’ an answer.”

Marjorie scanned the fine, precise writing; it was not a hand she recognized, and handwriting to her was like a photograph. Excusing herself, she tore open the envelope and perused the note.

“Listen to this, Aunt Yvonett,” she began and read aloud:

Sheridan Circle.

“Dear Miss Langdon:

Dear Miss Langdon

I had expected to make your acquaintance before this date, but moving into my new home has occupied all my time. Can you come and take tea with me this afternoon at five o’clock? I am an old school friend of your mother’s, and as such I hope you will overlook the informality of my invitation. Trusting that I shall see you later, believe me,

Sincerely yours,

Wednesday.

Flora Fordyce.”

Flora Fordyce

[Pg 26]

[Pg 26]

“It must be Janet Fordyce’s mother,” added Marjorie. “They have bought the Martin house. Who was Mrs. Calderon Fordyce before her marriage, Aunt Yvonett?”

Madame Yvonett shook her head. “I cannot tell thee. I was abroad when thy mother was a schoolgirl, and knew none of her classmates. Will thee accept Mrs. Fordyce’s invitation?”

“Of course. Cousin Rebekah’s train arrives at three-thirty; I will have plenty of time to meet her and bring her here first. I must answer Mrs. Fordyce’s note,” and pushing back her chair she hastened into the parlor 

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