“Anselm Lancaster called up, Jeanette and Cis,” Miss Braithwaite said as the girls came back into the library. “He says that Miss Gallatin was overjoyed at the suggestion of getting away from her detested business and looking after Lucases of assorted sizes. She is coming to see you, here, in the morning, Jeanette. You are to stay the night; I’ve arranged with your uncle, and I only hope that you may carry off with you that pearl of great price, Hannah Gallatin.” Miss Gallatin and Jeanette Lucas saw each other with perceiving eyes in the morning, and Jeanette went with Miss Gallatin in Miss Braithwaite’s coupé to find Mr. Lucas in his office to arrange for the speediest winding up of Miss Gallatin’s affairs. “You had an inspiration, Cis,” declared Miss Braithwaite when Jeanette Lucas had gone home again from Beaconhite, with all arrangements made for Miss Gallatin to follow her. “A lonely woman, and a home that needs her. Jeanette Lucas will gain much from Miss Gallatin, and Hannah Gallatin will be lonely no more.” “I wonder--” Cis began, and stopped. “Yes?” Miss Braithwaite waited. “If I had another inspiration?” Cis went on. “May I say it? I wondered if Mr. Lancaster would not fall in love with Jeanette Lucas, and whether it would not be beautiful if he did?” Miss Braithwaite stared, then she laughed. “She’s a lovely creature, and I’d not blame anyone for falling in love with her--you have fallen a wee bit in love with her yourself! But, Cis, my dear, are you getting to be a matchmaker? That’s a sign of old age, poor Cis! Why, I’m not nearly old enough to try to pair people off--or am I old enough to know it’s a risky business, besides being hard to work? That would be a pretty pair, I admit, and suitable. Well, well; possibly! Then you think my beloved Anselm is good enough even for Jeanette Lucas?” “For anyone; too good for almost anyone else,” said Cis promptly. “Miss Braithwaite, Jeanette said that she told you about the telephone welfare department at home, and Mr. Singer’s selecting me to run it. What ought I do?” “Come to dinner,” said Miss Braithwaite instantly, winding her arm around Cis to take her to the dining room. “And stay where you are till you get marching orders which can’t be forged. Dear me, are young girls the only ones that have a claim? How about an old girl who needs you? Stay with me, Cicely Adair, at least till you can endure me no longer! You’re a bright spot of comfort, my child, and I like to see your red hair beside my red fire on the hearth!” CHAPTER XX THE OLD BOTTLE FOR NEW WINE