“What’s the joke?” inquired Mrs. Everleigh curiously.
“Just a little private one. You’ll take me to the Austins’ studio, won’t you, Auntie?”
“Yes, if you’ll come along now. We must be getting home.”
They made their farewells to Ellen and moved away, Mabel losing no time in making inquiries about this new acquaintance, but saying no word about the box.
Ellen, too, was prompt in hunting up Mrs. Austin and learning what she might about Mabel.
“I found out about your purple girl,” said Mrs. Austin, “though, from the way you two jabbered away like magpies, I don’t suppose there is much you haven’t learned.”
“I didn’t learn so very much,” declared Ellen, “but we found out that we have many things in common. Tell me about her, please.”
“She is a very wealthy girl, lives in Baltimore with her grandmother. Her mother died when she was but a small child, and her father a few years ago. Mrs. Everleigh is her aunt. I believe the girl is considered rather peculiar, doesn’t care for society, a grave fault in the grandmother’s eyes, who, like many Baltimoreans, prefers the social whirl and the good things of life rather than the intellectual ones. Mrs. Everleigh says her niece lives in a world of her own to which but few are admitted. You liked her, Ellen?”
“Very much, and she wants to come to see me.”
However, the girls were not destined to meet again at this time, for upon Ellen’s arrival at the studio there was a telegram for her which meant an early start for home the next morning. The telegram read: “Have had an accident. Come at once. Orinda Crump.”