"As I said before, I deeply regret that I was unable to bring some
well-known person, Mrs. Fay-Wyman, for instance, to make us
acquainted in due form, but--"

"Oh, I don't care a bit about that," said Martha. "What is it?"

Margaret again started a little. She had not expected anything like
this. The mental picture which she had formed of Martha Wallingford,
the young literary star, seemed to undergo a transformation akin to
an explosion, out of which only one feature remained intact--the
book, "_Hearts Astray_." If Miss Wallingford had not possessed a
firm foundation in that volume, it is entirely possible that Margaret
might have abandoned her enterprise. As it was, after a little gasp
she went on.

"I did so wish to assure you in person of my great admiration for
your wonderful book," said she. Martha Wallingford made no reply. She
had an expression of utter acquiescence in the admiration, also of
having heard that same thing so many times, that she was somewhat
bored by it. She waited with questioning eyes upon Margaret's face.

"And I wondered," said Margaret, "if you would consider it too
informal, if I ventured to beg you to be my guest at my home in
Fairbridge next Thursday and remain the weekend, over Sunday. It
would give me so much pleasure, and Fairbridge is a charming little
village and there are really many interesting people there whom I
think you would enjoy, and as for them--!" Margaret gave a slight
roll to her eyes--"they would be simply overwhelmed."