"Go ahead and speak, then," answered Tavia. "I hope what you have to say
has nothing to do with work."
"Now, dearie, listen," commanded Dorothy. "Who do you think was on the
train with me this morning?"
"The conductor?"
"Likely," replied Dorothy; "but he did not occupy the entire ten coaches,
although he managed to circulate through them rather successfully. But I
did not refer to him. I sat in the same seat with--our little woman in
black!"
"_Our_ little woman in black! Please do not include me in that class. Did
she want your purse?"
"Now, really, Tavia, I am almost convinced that we have greatly wronged
that woman--she was just as nice as she could be--"
"Oh, of course, she was--nice. That's what the laws are for, keeping
people nice. They don't have much trouble to make that clear to you,
Doro, dear."
"Well, of course, you are entitled to your own opinion, but I do wish you
would listen. She sent you a message."
"Sent me a message! It was to you she owed the apology. She has her cases
mixed."
"Tavia, she gave me this card to hand you with the request that you call
upon her on Thursday morning."
Tavia glanced at the card. Then she read the inscription aloud.
"Of all the--nerve!" she exclaimed, seemingly at a total loss to grasp any
other word. "To ask me to call on a handwriting expert! Does she think I
want her services?"
"I was, and am still, just as puzzled as you are, Tavia; but she seemed so
serious.
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