to obey an imperial decree and Lady Carey was Empress of
Mayberry.

After accepting I returned to the rectory to find that Hephzy also had
received an invitation. Not to play golf, of course; her invitation was
of a totally different kind.

"What do you think, Hosy!" she cried. "I've got a letter and you can't
guess who it's from."

"From Susanna?" I ventured.

"Susanna! You don't suppose I'd be as excited as all this over a letter
from Susanna Wixon, do you? No indeed! I've got a letter from Mrs.
Hepton, who had the Nickerson cottage last summer. She and her husband
are in Paris and they want us to meet 'em there in a couple of weeks and
go for a short trip through Switzerland. They got our address from Mr.
Campbell before they left home. Mrs. Hepton writes that they're countin'
on our company. They're goin' to Lake Lucerne and to Mont Blanc and
everywhere. Wouldn't it be splendid!"

The Heptons had been summer neighbors of ours on the Cape for several
seasons. They were friends of Jim Campbell's and had first come to
Bayport on his recommendation. I liked them very well, and, oddly
enough, for I was not popular with the summer colony, they had seemed to
like me.

"It was very kind of them to think of us," I said. "Campbell shouldn't
have given them our address, of course, but their invitation was well
meant. You must write them at once. Make our refusal as polite as
possible."

Hephzy seemed disappointed, I thought.

"Then you think I'd better say no?" she observed.

"Why, of course. You weren't thinking of accepting, were you?"

"Well, I didn't know. I'm not sure that our goin' wouldn't be the right
thing. I've been considerin' for some time, Hosy, and I've about come to
the conclusion that stayin' here is bad for you. Maybe it's bad for both
of us. Perhaps a change would do us both good."

I was astonished. "Humph!" I exclaimed; "this is a change of heart,
Hephzy. A while ago, when I suggested going back to Bayport, you
wouldn't hear of it. You wanted to stay here and--and wait."

"I know I did. And I've been waitin', but nothin' has come of it. I've
still got my presentiment, Hosy. I believe just as strong as I ever did
that some time or other she and you and I will be together again. But
stayin' here and seein' nobody but each other and broodin' don't do us
any good. It's doin' you harm; that's plain enough. You don't write and
you don't eat--that is, not much--and you're gettin' bluer and more thin