"How about calling him Grosvenor?". he babbled on. "Grosvenor's a good
name. Ted Grosvenor--that ought to hit them between the eyes. It's going
to be rather a lark, Miss Bab!"

And of course just then mother came in, and the Brooks idiot went in
and poured her a cup of tea, with his little finger stuck out at a right
angel, and every time he had a chance he winked at me.

I wanted to die.

When they had all gone home it seemed like a bad dream, the whole thing.
It could not be true. I went upstairs and manacured my nails, which
usually comforts me, and put my hair up like Leila's.

But nothing could calm me. I had made my own Fate, and must lie in it.
And just then Hannah slipped in with a box in her hands and her eyes
frightened.

"Oh, Miss Barbara!" she said. "If your mother sees this!"

I dropped my manacure scizzors, I was so alarmed. But I opened the box,
and clutched the envelope inside. It said "from H----." Then Carter was
right. There was an H after all!

Hannah was rolling her hands in her apron and her eyes were poping out
of her head.

"I just happened to see the boy at the door," she said, with her silly
teeth chattering. "Oh, Miss Barbara, if Patrick had answered the bell!
What shall we do with them?"