“Why, yes--let’s see--day after tomorrow----” Mrs. Merwent’s eyes and voice trailed off into space again. “I’ll declare, Nannie,” remarked John with some irritation, “you act as though you were a thousand miles away. Are you worried about anything?” “No-o. That is--nothing in particular,” she amended. “Well, then, shall we settle on day after tomorrow?” “Why, yes, day after tomorrow will suit me.” “Well, then, you two come down to the office after lunch and we’ll go.” John took up his fork again. The door bell rang and Katy came from the hall with a telegram in her hand. Nannie reached for it, but John, unaware of her motion, took the envelope from the servant. He read the address and passed it across the table. “It’s for you, Nannie.” “Thank you.” She dropped the envelope in her plate and picked it up again. “Why don’t you read it?” “I don’t like telegrams!” interjected Lucy. “I’m afraid of them. Maybe something’s the matter with Cousin Minnie.” “Nonsense!” ejaculated John. “It’s probably something very simple. Read it and see. Where is it from?” “It’s from R-Russellville,” Nannie stammered, opening it with uncertain movements and tearing the message half across in the process. “What does it say? Is anybody sick?” Lucy queried. “Who is it from?” insisted John. “It’s--it’s from--it’s from Professor Walsh,” Mrs. Merwent informed them unsteadily, reading the telegram. “What’s the matter with _him_?” sneered John. “Why, he--you know he--his interest in me----” Nannie began with a changed air of mingled relief and importance. “Does he have to send telegrams to tell you about it?” demanded John contemptuously. “Can’t he wait for the mails? He’s gotten along with letters pretty well, so far!” Lucy was observing her mother strangely. “He’s been trying his best for weeks and weeks to get me to say when--when--to name--to decide----” Nannie hesitated, regarding John beseechingly. “To name the day, eh!” snorted John, ignoring the look intended for him. Lucy sat tense in her chair. “Yes, John,” Nannie spoke almost apologetically, “that’s what he wants. He--he’s very persistent. He wants me to come to Russellville at once.” “Humph! It’s a funny notion to get all of a sudden. He’s been patient enough until now.” “John!” Mrs. Merwent’s voice quavered. His glance encountered hers reluctantly. Lucy was the personification of palpitating expectation. The color flamed in her cheeks and her eyes were like scintillating stars. “When do you think you will go, Mamma?” she asked, taking Dimmie’s hand in hers and leaning forward as she spoke. “Why, I don’t know. I----” Nannie began evasively. John watched Lucy an instant. Becoming aware of his scrutiny, she turned her head and their glances met. John’s lip curled. “Well, I’ll be damned!” he exclaimed, throwing down his napkin and pushing his chair back from the table. Lucy said nothing, but the color left her face. Her grip on Dimmie’s hand tightened. John rose.