" To-day they had a double interest for
her. She read again and again--a dozen times, at least--that particular
"Personal" appointing the meeting at Fourteenth Street, and a lazy smile
came over her tropical face at last as she laid it down.
"Nothing could be better," mused Mrs. Walraven, with that indolent smile
shining in her lazy, wicked black eyes. "The little fool sets her trap,
and walks into it herself, like the inconceivable idiot she is. It
reminds one of the ostrich, this advertisement--pretty Mollie buries her
head in the sand, and fancies no one sees her. Now, if Guy only plays
his part--and I think he will, for he's absurdly and ridiculously in
love with the fair-haired tom-boy--she will be caught in the nicest trap
ever silly seventeen walked into. She was caged once, and got free. She
will find herself caged again, and not get free. I shall have my
revenge, and Guy will have his inamorata. I'll send for him at once."
Mrs. Walraven rose, sought out her blotting-book, took a sheet of paper
and an envelope, and scrawled two or three words to her cousin:
"DEAR GUY,--Come to me at once.
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