“I am always so glad to meet any of Molly’s friends,” she said, as she took her seat in the car, between her sister and Gretel. “You know, Molly and I are great chums, despite the difference in our ages. We keep up a steady correspondence all winter, and I really feel quite intimate with all the girls at Miss Minton’s.” “You will find two more of the Minton girls at the house,” said Mrs. Chester; “Kitty Sharp and Geraldine Barlow. Geraldine’s twin brother is with us, too.” “I am glad; I like young people. How’s Steve?” “Very well, and coming to dinner to-night. He would have been at the station to meet you, but couldn’t get off duty. I hope you had a comfortable journey.” “It was broiling in the train, but I didn’t particularly mind. I was absorbed in a book all the way, and there was an electric fan directly over my seat, which gave some relief. What luxuries all these modern inventions are!” “They certainly are,” Mrs. Chester agreed. “I sometimes wonder how people lived without the telephone.” “Do you remember the first time we ever heard of a telephone?” Mrs. Cranston said, smiling. “It was Paul who informed us that there was a telephone at his home in Boston, and that his mother could talk to his father at his office. We decided that it was a great pity such a nice little boy as Paul should be so untruthful. I think Daisy prayed for him.” Mrs. Cranston laughed over the old childish reminiscence, but her face softened at the thought of the little sister who had died so many years ago. “I remember it well,” said Mrs. Chester, “and I also remember that wonderful story you invented about the princess who possessed a magic music-box that could sing as well as play. Paul has given me a new victrola, by the way; the best we have ever had.” The sisters chatted on pleasantly, but Gretel scarcely heard what they said. Her thoughts were back in her father’s studio, and she was recalling scene after scene, in which Fritz Lippheim had played his part. As soon as she reached home she slipped away to her own room and, sitting down in a rocking-chair by the open window, sat with folded hands, staring straight before her, for the next half hour. She was aroused at last by the entrance of Geraldine. “Did you have a good time?” Gretel asked, trying to speak quite naturally, as if nothing unusual had happened. “Yes, fine,” Geraldine answered, tossing her hat on the bed and subsiding wearily into a chair. “It was pretty hot, but I didn’t mind. Jerry caught a three-pounder; pretty good, wasn’t it? I didn’t get a bite myself, but I enjoyed sitting in the boat and watching the others. I suppose you’ve seen the authoress?” “Oh, yes, and she is very pleasant. She and Mrs. Chester reminisced all the way home.” “Did you succeed in getting your wool?” Gretel gave a little start. “Yes, I got it,” she said, “but--but I don’t seem to remember bringing it home. It isn’t here anywhere, is it?” And she glanced anxiously around the room.