Find out for sure,--don't ask her, but see for yourself,--if Azalea gets a letter from Horner's Corners addressed in a big, bold Spencerian hand.

I remember Uncle Thorpe's handwriting perfectly, and it's unmistakable.

I've not seen it since Azalea came." "Goodness, do you call it a mystery ?" "I do, indeed.

You'll find out it's a pretty startling mystery, or I miss my guess." "Well, Azalea is a handful, I admit, but I think she's good at heart, and she is devoted to my booful little Fleury-floppet! My own Dolly-winkums,--who looks prezackly like her Daddy-winkums!" "Patty, you'll go to the lunatic asylum some day, if you let yourself talk such gibberish!" "Listen to him, Baby mine, my flubsy-dubsy,--my pinky-poppy-petal, listen to your dreadful Dads! Isn't he the--" "The what ?" and Farnsworth strode across the room and took his wife and child both into his big bear-like embrace.
"The dearest, sweetest man in the world!" Patty said, laughing but nearly smothered in his arms.
"All right, you're excused," and he let them go.
Nurse Winnie came then and took Fleurette, and the two elder Farnsworths went downstairs together.
They heard voices on the wistaria porch, and soon saw that Azalea was entertaining two guests.
They were strangers, and not very attractive looking people.
"Shall we step out there ?" Farnsworth asked.
"No," decreed Patty; "let her alone.

It's probably those people she picked up on the train coming here.