Grace Harlowes Golden Summer | Page 5

lost in the wilds of darkest Deanery. Such is not the case.
Though I have wandered disconsolately about my childhood haunts and

camped out despondently under the fruitful pear-tree in our back yard,
which, so far as I can remember, has never boasted of a single solitary
pear, I am by no means lost. In fact, I am really beginning to feel quite
at home. But how I miss you! Living in a 'Graceless' world is a cross
even to a person of my excellent and amiable qualities.
"There's a grain of comfort in store, thank goodness. Before many
weeks the Sempers will congregate together somewhere for a glorious
reunion. Elfreda has written me that you are soon to be in New York
City. I suppose the momentous question of 'Where shall we reunite?'
will be decided then."
Grace read on through page after page of the long letter, written in
Emma's most humorous vein. Finishing it at last, she gathered the
closely written sheets together with a happy little sigh. Good-natured,
fun-loving Emma Dean occupied a foremost place in her affections.
Grace wondered sometimes if the bond between them did not stretch as
tightly even as that between herself and Anne. Emma had been and
always would be the perfect comrade.
"You're next, Mabel," she murmured as she scanned the third envelope
on the scarcely depleted pile. "I suppose you are going to tell me
that----"
The loud purr of an automobile stopping before the house left Mabel's
message still unread. Depositing her wealth of correspondence on the
seat of the swing, Grace tripped down the steps and on down the walk.
"Good morning, dear Fairy Godmother," she greeted hospitably. "Good
morning, Tom. Something nice is going to happen. I can read it in your
faces."
"That depends on whatever your conception of 'nice' may be," returned
Tom mysteriously. Slipping from the driver's seat, he caught her
outstretched hand in both his own, his gray eyes alive with the light of
a joyful anticipation which Grace had been quick to catch.
"Good morning, my dear," called Mrs. Gray from the car. "Run in the

house and get your hat. We are bound on a most mysterious mission.
You are the third person needed to carry it out."
"I'll be with you in a moment." Turning, Grace hastened up the walk to
the house, wondering mightily what lay in store for her. "Mrs. Gray and
Tom are waiting outside for me in the automobile, Mother," she
announced, appearing suddenly on the shady back porch, where her
mother sat quietly hemstitching a table cloth for Grace's Hope Chest.
"Come out and see them."
Smiling to herself, Mrs. Harlowe laid aside her labor of love and
followed her daughter's impetuous lead. Catching up her
broad-brimmed Panama hat from the hall rack, Grace placed it on her
head without stopping to consult the hall mirror. Linking her arm in her
mother's, she towed her gently along toward the automobile to meet the
unexpected arrivals.
"Won't you come with us, Mrs. Harlowe?" invited Mrs. Gray. The two
women exchanged not only greetings but significant smiles as well.
"Thank you; not this morning. I prefer to leave Grace to you and Tom."
Again her eyes met those of the older woman with the same enigmatic
smile.
"There is mystery in the very air," declared Grace gayly. "I can tell by
the way you two are exchanging eye-signals. Whatever the great secret
is, Mother knows it. Now don't you?" she challenged, her affectionate
gaze resting on Mrs. Harlowe.
"I'll answer that question when you come back," parried her mother.
"I'll hold you to your word," came the retort. Dropping a soft kiss on
her mother's pink cheek, Grace accepted Tom's hand and stepped into
the tonneau of the waiting automobile.
"Whither away, good prince?" she called mischievously to Tom as the
machine glided down the street.

"That's a secret, curious princess. Wait and you will see," flung back
Tom teasingly.
"Of course I'm curious," calmly admitted Grace, as she settled back in
her seat. "Who wouldn't be? I wouldn't have let you tell me, though, if
you had tried. I am quite ready to wait and see what happens."
Nevertheless, as they spun along the smooth road in the summer
sunshine, Grace cast more than one speculative glance about her, trying
to glean some faint hint of their destination. Although conversation
went on briskly between herself and her Fairy Godmother, her keen
eyes lost no detail that might possibly furnish her with a clue.
"We'll have to leave the car here and walk a little way," announced
Tom, when half an hour later, after traveling the highway that skirted
Upton Wood, he slowed down in a shady spot on the other side of the
short stretch of forest.
"Very