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 there was nothing left of the banquet but crumbs and fruit peelings and the porter was summoned to remove the table. Prue tore a corner from the brown paper and sat down with a pencil in her hand.

"What are you going to do, sis?" asked Gordon with lively interest.

"Send a note of thanks, dear."

"Prue! Why, you don't know who he may be!" remonstrated her aunt.

"Who he is doesn't matter, Auntie. Please don't begin to be prudish just because you're back in New England. I thought I'd broken you of that, dear. Porter, is the gentleman who sent the things on this train?"

"Yes'm, I reckon he is."

"I say, porter," demanded Grordon, "was it the conductor?"

"I dunno, sir, whether it was or not."

"You don't know!" exclaimed Aunt Mildred sharply. "Do you mean to say you don't know your own conductor when you see him?"