But Hattie May showed no inclination to depart, so I went on. "Perhaps you'd like to hear what Dad says about her," I suggested. I reached into a pigeon-hole in my desk and took out a thin paper envelope with a foreign stamp. My father is a missionary in China, you see, and that's why the long vacation didn't mean to me quite what it did to the other girls. It meant a summer spent with some one of a rather scattered collection of relatives, none of whom I remembered in the least. This summer it was to mean Aunt Cal.
"Oh, yes; let's hear it." Eve smiled encouragingly from the cushions. I suppose she saw how in earnest I was.
"Your Aunt Calliope," Dad wrote, "is in many ways a remarkable woman and I feel that you cannot but profit by her acquaintance. It is, however, not entirely on your own account that I have suggested this visit. I am hoping that she in turn may reap some benefit from your stay with her. I must confess that the occasional letters which we have had from her within the last few years have reflected a certain melancholy trend of thought which has given me some concern. So I am hoping, my dear daughter, that you will bring her something of your own happy----"
"Well, that's about all," I broke off because of that sudden chokiness that comes over me still at times, even though ten whole months have gone by since I said good-bye to Mother and Dad on the dock at Shanghai.
"What'd I tell you!" exclaimed Hattie May triumphantly. "Queer! Queer and brooding! Honest, Sandy, I can't say I envy you your summer."
"Oh, I don't know," Eve drawled. "I think she sounds rather interesting. And I don't think she necessarily has to be narrow because she's lived in a New England village most of her life. As for being queer--well, everybody is a little, aren't they?"
I threw her a grateful glance. "Maybe you'd like to hear her letter, too," I said on a sudden impulse. "It just came today. Of course it doesn't say much," I added, a little doubtful, on second thought, of the wisdom of revealing Aunt Cal any further with Hattie May in the room.
"I'll bet it says plenty!" Hattie May swung round. Her small bright eyes fairly pounced on the letter as I pulled it from its envelope. "You can tell a lot by handwriting and--well, reading between the lines."