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farther up the road, either. Could Bobby have seen somebody else’s mailbox?”
    Trixie looked toward the Belden house in the valley. She studied its height and the placement of her window. Out of sight beyond a strip of forestland lay the Wheeler estate with its many buildings. In that short distance to Manor House, several mailboxes served people, like Mr. Maypenny and Tom and Celia Delanoy, who lived off the county road. Hidden on a hilltop in the distance stood Di Lynch’s large stone home. It was visible only in winter when the trees were bare. Their mile-long private road twisted downhill to Glen Road, where their mailbox stood at the intersection. The Frayne mansion had burned, so that property had no use for a box. Mr. Lytell’s store couldn’t be seen.
    Trixie sighed. “No, I can’t see mailboxes from my window. Not even our own.”
    “Well, neither could Bobby without binoculars.” To cover a feeling of pique that Hallie had made a point, Trixie opened the mailbox. She drew out five heavy white envelopes, each addressed in Miss Trask’s perfect script.
    “Our invitations!” Trixie’s voice softened with the wonder of holding proof in her hand that Juliana and Hans were to be married, and that Trixie Belden was to be maid of honor. “Look. Here’s a separate invitation for Bobby. They knew he’d like one for a souvenir.” Waving her fan of white envelopes, she ran up the lane shouting, “Mail! It’s important!”
    In the backyard, Trixie dealt out the mail, then ran into the house to call Honey.
    In the window seat at the end of the upstairs hall^ Trixie dialed the familiar number. While the call went through, she propped the receiver on her shoulder and opened the outer envelope. She wiped her warm fingers on her shorts before pulling the engraved invitation from the second envelope. There were the magic words:

    Suddenly Trixie became aware of Honey saying over and over again, “Hello? Hello?”
    “Hello, Honey!” Trixie squealed. “I’m reading it, Honey. I’m reading my invitation, and it’s beautiful! Is Juliana up yet?”
    “Oh, my goodness, yes! She and Hans are down by the sundial looking at travel folios. Anyway, that’s what they’re doing when they’re not just holding hands and looking at each other.” Honey laughed softly. “They think they’re out of sight of the whole world, but they’re not. I can look right down into that part of the garden, where Miss Trask had all the old-fashioned flowers planted this year.”
    For the briefest of moments, Trixie had a vision of Bobby looking into some secret glade from a second-floor window at Crabapple Farm. She told herself she had wheelchair on the brain. “See you later, Honey. I’m going to call Di. I’ll talk to Juliana later.”
    “Tell Di that the Bob-Whites are invited here for lunch. We’ll swim first.”
    It took several minutes to reach Diana. Harrison took the call. He relayed the message to a maid before Di was located and answered the phone.
    “Di, isn’t it wonderful?” Trixie sang out. “This is the very first wedding invitation I ever got. I’ve been included before with the family, of course, but....” Brows knitted, Trixie listened to uneven breathing sounds. Was Di crying? Guiltily Trixie realized that her excitement about the invitation had momentarily wiped out the memory of the trouble at Di’s house.
    “Oh, Di! I’m sorry I rattled on like that. Is something else wrong? Did the robbers come back?”
    Di sniffled. Then she said very quietly, “We re fine. The robbers didn’t come back. Mother and Dad got an invitation, but I didn’t.”
    “Di!” Trixie gasped. “There’s some mistake.”
    “I didn’t get one,” Di repeated stiffly.
    “Please don’t be like that, Di,” Trixie begged. “Let me call Honey and tell her what happened. You’ve addressed Christmas cards. You know how easy it is to skip a name on the fist.”
    “Well... yes,” Di agreed reluctantly.
    “Honey says