But she had only set eyes on the beginning of a drama as she was soon destined to learn. Late the next afternoon, while seated on the front veranda with her mother, she viewed with mingled emotions a taxicab which had come to a full stop before the house. Out of it stepped a small, golden-haired young woman whose smart pongee traveling coat and bulging leather bag proclaimed that she had come from afar. "Arline Thayer!" cried Grace, running down the steps to meet the newcomer as she passed through the gateway. "Why, Daffydowndilly! This _is_ a surprise! You are the last person I had dreamed of seeing." Grace caught the dainty little girl in a warm embrace. "I know I should have telegraphed you," apologized Arline, "but--well--I didn't. I made up my mind all in an instant to come to you, and here I am. Ever since I received your letter you've been constantly in my thoughts. I replied at once. Of course you received it?" "Let me take your luggage, Daffydowndilly." Grace evaded Arline's implied interrogation for the moment. "Come and pay your respects to Mother, then we'll go upstairs to your room and you can rest a little before dinner. You must be very tired after your long ride. Then, too, we can exchange confidences. I have something to say to you about the letter you just mentioned." Grace could not refrain from smiling a little. She suspected that Arline had made a mistake, the precise result of which was yet to be revealed. "What is the matter, Grace?" was Arline's quick question. She had instantly detected the unusual in her friend's enigmatic smile and evasive speech. Their progress to the veranda, where Mrs. Harlowe waited to greet the unexpected but heartily-welcome arrival, prevented Grace's reply. It was not until Arline had been ushered into one of the large, airy upper chambers which Grace took so much pleasure in reserving for the use of her frequent guests, that the former again repeated her question in tones of deepening anxiety. "I will tell you when you have made yourself comfortable," stipulated Grace. Assisting Arline in removing her hat and coat, she applied herself assiduously to the comfort of her friend. "You are a truly ideal hostess, Grace," was Arline's tribute as she finally settled herself in a deep willow chair. "Now I am ready to hear what you have been keeping from me." "You asked me if I had received your letter," began Grace as she dropped into a nearby chair. "Yesterday morning I _did_ receive a letter you wrote, but it was not for me. The envelope was addressed to me, but the letter--I read it before I realized that I hadn't that right--was written to Mr. Stanley Forde. I wrote you an apology, enclosed the other letter with it and mailed them to you." "Oh!" Arline gave a horrified gasp. "How perfectly dreadful! How in the world did I happen to make such a mistake! This is awful!"