They followed her into a spacious living room, bright and cheerful, but furnished in rather prim and old-fashioned style. A fire was burning in the grate. “Two young ladies to see you,” Cora announced. The Misses Gates promptly arose and, putting aside their sewing, eagerly came forward to greet the girls. Cora took their suitcases and wraps and left them. “I am so glad you came,” one of the ladies said in a soft, sweet voice. “When this storm gathered so quickly, we were afraid you might be caught in it.” She smiled apologetically. “Our home isn’t as modern as it once was, but Azalea and I will try to make you comfortable here.” As she sank back into the restful depths of a big chair, Doris had an opportunity to study the two sisters. Iris and Azalea quite obviously were twins, for they looked alike and they dressed identically. Their voices, too, were similar—low, musical and soft. They looked rather frail and delicate, Doris thought, and their faces were finely chiseled like that of a cameo. They wore simple, long, white cotton dresses. Had it not been for their snow white hair, Doris would not have guessed that they had long since left their youth behind. If the girls had been disappointed at their first reception, they no longer had any doubt of their welcome. Azalea and Iris set them at ease by maintaining a pleasant, light conversation. It was apparent to Doris that they were both well educated, though they seemed to take little interest in modern-day topics. “I don’t believe they know much about what has been going on in the world for the last ten years,” Doris told herself. Before fifteen minutes had elapsed, she found herself quite captivated by the two ladies, and Kitty, too, had forgotten her former uneasiness. As the afternoon advanced, the girls found themselves more and more comfortable, looking forward to a pleasant visit. “No doubt you wondered why we invited you here,” Iris said after a time, addressing Doris. “Well, yes, I did,” she admitted. “It’s a long story. Azalea and I—” Her voice trailed off as Cora Sully appeared in the doorway. “Supper is served,” she announced. Iris arose to lead the way to the dining room. “The story must wait,” she said with a smile. “I know you girls are far more interested in food just now.” “I am a bit hungry,” acknowledged Doris with a pleasant smile, as she and Kitty followed the twins into the next room where Cora was putting the finishing touches to the table. Kitty kept close to her chum. Doris caught her eye. In a whisper she heard Kitty ask her about the dog outside, as she motioned toward the food—Kitty wanted Wags to be remembered. “Wait!” signalled Doris, as the group took seats about the table. But would the dog wait? CHAPTER VIII A VISITOR