I've just got a note from her. She
says she knew mamma when she lied in Washington, and that her
brother has fallen in love with you, and that she won't have
another happy moment--or something like that--if you and I don't
come to a tea she is giving to a Miss Ruth MacFarlane; and that I
am to give her love to mamma, and bring anybody I please with me."
"When?" asked Jack. He could hardly restrain his joy.
"I think next Saturday--yes, next Saturday," consulting the letter
in her hand.
"Where? At Mr. Grayson's rooms?" cried Jack.
"Yes, at her brother's, she says. Here, Jack--you read it. Some
number in East Fifteenth Street--queer place for people to live,
isn't it, Garry?--people who want anybody to come to their teas.
I've got a dressmaker lives over there somewhere; she's in
Fifteenth Street, anyhow, for I always drive there."
Jack devoured the letter. This was what he had been hoping for. He
knew the old gentleman would keep his word!
"Well, of course you'll go, Corinne?" he cried eagerly.
"Of course I'll do nothing of the kind.
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