I handed the message to the Kitten, who read it and exclaimed: "I knew
he was only waiting for the roof! You see he doesn't worry about _my_
prospects--selfish pig! Answer it and say Thursday--you can get well
by Thursday, can't you?--for I want to send for Tom on the same day.
There's a polo game at home on Saturday, and Tom has a new motor car.
Tell Dick the best hotel in the town is the Brooks House. I must wire
to Laura, too. I shall say, let me see: I shall say: '_You shouldn't
have left me. I couldn't be noble alone._' That's just ten words.
She'll understand fast enough, and it will pave the way for you when
you explain the situation to her. We'll leave the sanitarium Friday
and get your Cousin Sarah to chaperon us on the journey home. Here,
I've written my messages, now do yours--hurry! There!--Jimmy, you're
too old to play with matches, aren't you?"
"Yes, marm."
"Very well, then, you can be trusted with these two telegrams. Don't
hold them near the fire; there's a match in each of them."
* * * * *