Aunt Caroline laughed once more. “Do you think I’d be disappointed again? Well, it’s because diphtheria has broken out at school. And Edward is bringing a friend with him――I expect you guessed that too?” “We _knew_ that,” said Ann. “He wrote to Barbara and told her ages ago. It’s a boy called Palmer Dorset. But of course we didn’t know they’d be coming so soon.” “Well I must say you all seem to be a great deal more behind the scenes than I am. This is the first I’ve heard of Master Dorset’s existence, let alone of his intention to pay us a visit.” “We can tell you about him, Aunt Caroline; and I know Edward _was_ going to write to you, but I suppose he hadn’t time. He’s frightfully clever, Edward says. He knows all about airioplanes and wireless telegraphy and things of that sort. And he’s won crowds of competitions in papers, and he invented a system of writing six lines at a time, only it takes longer than to do them in the ordinary way. Of course all the lines have to be the same, and you write with a penholder he invented, with branches out of it into which you stick reservoir nibs. They must be reservoir nibs, because it takes so long to fix them and get them all dipped in the ink that it wouldn’t be worth while using any other kind.” “Didn’t Edward even mention him in grandpapa’s letter?” asked Barbara. “Oh yes, he mentioned him there, and grandpapa sent a telegram telling him to bring him. But when he had done that he forgot all about the whole thing, so how was I to know?” “It _does_ seem rather a mix up,” murmured Ann. “I wish he wasn’t coming,” said Jim, gloomily. “I know what he’ll be like if he’s a friend of Edward’s.” “I’ll tell Edward you said that,” whispered Barbara. “Edward’s a nut,” replied Jim. “You can tell him that too.” “He’s not; and you aren’t allowed to make personal remarks.” She glanced at Aunt Caroline for approval――an action which provoked a hideous grimace from her young brother, who was standing out of his aunt’s observation. “He is. You should see the ties and socks he wears, Aunt Caroline, and the way he does his hair. You’d think it was painted on the top of his head, it sticks so close. If you want to make him mad all you’ve got to do is to ruffle it. Only it’s not worth while, because you get your hands all over oil.” “Hadn’t you better go to meet them?” Aunt Caroline suggested, feebly. “I’m afraid you won’t be able to do more than meet them on their way, for the train must be nearly here by this time; but I expect they’ll walk. Ann needn’t go unless she likes.” “I must go,” Ann declared. “I’m the only one who really knows Balmer. I was with him and Edward one day.” “Why does she call Palmer Balmer, Aunt Caroline?” Jim asked. “This isn’t personal, it’s a riddle.... Do you give it up?... Because Pouncer bounces, and there’s a ‘b’ in both.” “I’m afraid it isn’t very fresh,” he added apologetically. * * * * *