Grace Harlowes Golden Summer | Page 5

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 well," came Mrs. Gray's placid voice from the tonneau. "I shall not leave the car, Tom. You may do the honors."
"Come on, Grace." Leaving the driver's seat, Tom opened the door of the tonneau and stretched forth an inviting hand.
"I know where we are going," she cried triumphantly, as she accepted the proffered assistance. "We are going to take a look at Upton Heights. How nice! I haven't seen the quaint old place since I came home from college. You know I've always loved it and wished I owned it. It's such a wonderful forest retreat. When I was a little girl, I used to love to play that the world ended there. I always called it the House Behind the World."
Further mysterious and affectionate eye-signals were flashed between