That was such a good one that I did just want to pat her
on the back. I'm going to stop up my ears now."
"Come down, and stay with us, Alan," his cousin, said.
"No, thanks; not even you can bribe me to leave this book. I want
to know what they found in the bottom of the cave." And Alan
returned to his reading.
However, the unexpected interruption had put an end to all serious
talk, and the girls were chatting idly, now of this matter, now of
that, when a boy stepped up on the piazza. He had a telegram in
his hand.
"Miss Katharine W. Shepard?" he asked, referring to his address
book.
Katharine rose, dropping the kitten on the floor.
"I am Miss Shepard," she said, taking the envelope from his hand
and signing the receipt.
"I hope nothing is wrong," said Florence, eyeing the yellow paper
with a true feminine dislike of a telegram.
"Wrong? Oh, no; it is probably from papa. He often telegraphs us,"
said Katharine carelessly, as she tore open the end of the
envelope.
She glanced at the paper in her hand, then looked a little
surprised.
"It's from mamma," she said. "Papa has probably changed his plans.
Listen: 'Start for home first of next week. Have written.
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