"You young folks are so taken up with your motors," she said as she
took her place at the head of the table, "that we older and less
fortunate people scarcely get a chance to speak to you. Cora is so
enthusiastic over her car and its swift motion that our maid
declares she will soon turn into a bird and fly."
"A dove," whispered Walter, just loud enough to be heard by every
one, but softly enough to disguise the platitude.
Cora laughed lightly. Walter had a very taking way of saying
things. He seemed to know exactly how to be nice without being
silly.
The dinner over, the young people went to the porch. Mary's letter
was in Cora's belt, and the edge of the envelope, scratching her
hand as she sat down reminded her of her anxiety concerning the
contents. Should she tell all the boys? Ed ought to know, that was
her first thought. Surely Jack ought to know of it, and, as for
Walter--well, he ought to know also, for he had found the empty
pocketbook.
Ed was making some remark to Jack about the lost money. Cora
listened to see if it had any reference to what her brother had told
her that morning. She crushed the letter in her hands.
"I've just had a note," she began, "from my friend Mary Downs.
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