Daily Enterprise and prepared to read the Glen "Notes" which, as Miss
Cornelia had just informed her, filled half a column of it and mentioned
almost everybody at Ingleside. There was a big, black headline on the
front page of the Enterprise, stating that some Archduke Ferdinand or
other had been assassinated at a place bearing the weird name of
Sarajevo, but Susan tarried not over uninteresting, immaterial stuff
like that; she was in quest of something really vital. Oh, here it was--
"Jottings from Glen St. Mary." Susan settled down keenly, reading each
one over aloud to extract all possible gratification from it.

Mrs. Blythe and her visitor, Miss Cornelia--alias Mrs. Marshall Elliott
--were chatting together near the open door that led to the veranda,
through which a cool, delicious breeze was blowing, bringing whiffs of
phantom perfume from the garden, and charming gay echoes from the
vine-hung corner where Rilla and Miss Oliver and Walter were laughing
and talking. Wherever Rilla Blythe was, there was laughter.

There was another occupant of the living-room, curled up on a couch, who
must not be overlooked, since he was a creature of marked individuality,
and, moreover, had the distinction of being the only living thing whom
Susan really hated.

All cats are mysterious but Dr. Jekyll-and-Mr. Hyde--"Doc" for short--
was trebly so. He was a cat of double personality--or else, as Susan
vowed, he was possessed by the devil. To begin with, there had been
something uncanny about the very dawn of his existence. Four years
previously Rilla Blythe had had a treasured darling of a kitten, white
as snow, with a saucy black tip to its tail, which she called Jack
Frost. Susan disliked Jack Frost, though she could not or would not give
any valid reason therefor.