She had just settled herself down, and was turning over the leaves of one
of the many picture papers which Tremaine had bought for her on their
jolly little journey on the day of her arrival at The Trellis House, when
there came a ring at the door.
Who could it be coming so late--close to seven o'clock? Enid Crofton got
up, feeling vaguely disturbed.
The new maid brought in a reply-paid telegram, and Mrs. Crofton tore
open the orange envelope with just a faint premonition that something
disagreeable was going to happen:--"May I come and stay with you for the
week-end? Have just arrived in England. Alice Crofton."
Thank Heaven she had been wrong as to her premonition! This portended
nothing disagreeable--only something unexpected. The sender of this
telegram was the kind, opulent sister-in-law whom she always thought of
as "Miss Crofton."
Going over to her toy writing-table, she quickly wrote on the reply-paid
form:--"Miss Crofton, Buck's Hotel, Dover Street. Yes, delighted. Do come
to-morrow morning. Excellent eleven o'clock train from Waterloo.--Enid."
As she settled herself by the fire she told herself that a visit from
Miss Crofton might be quite a good thing--so far as Beechfield was
concerned.
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