Silently the two girls made their way up the stairs, and reached their room without being discovered.
Mabel insisted upon an immediate account of Shirley’s adventures and the latter gave full details.
“You see,” she concluded, “it was all your fault. Why didn’t you remind me of my purse?”
“That’s right, blame me,” said Mabel. “I think you’ve had some jolly fun.”
“It depends on how you look at it,” drawled Shirley. “Oh, but I’m tired. Let’s get to sleep.”
The next two days, Saturday and Sunday, the girls spent quietly in their friend’s home, only going out twice. One trip was to the theater, and the other to church on Sunday morning.
Early Monday morning found them on the train.
A young man boarded the train at Cynthiana, who attracted Shirley’s attention at once. There was something familiar about him, but for the moment she could not place him. Looking in her handbag for her ticket, she accidentally drew forth a card, which she glanced at in surprise.
“Mr. Leonard Wolfe,” it read.
“I wonder,” she murmured, and then it all came to her in a flash.