“I wonder if he heard anything or saw anything,” spoke Dorothy reflectively.
The doorbell rang. It gave them a sudden start.
“Wouldn’t it be sort of—psychic if this was Harry now,” exclaimed Sim.
“You should more properly say, ‘if this were he, my dear young lady,’” corrected Arden, imitating one of their teachers at Cedar Ridge.
“School is out!” declared Sim. “Yes, Moselle?” she inquired.
“Mr. Pangborn,” Moselle announced with dignity.
The girls looked at one another but didn’t dare laugh. The sounds might carry downstairs.
“Oh, I wish he might come up here and let me hear what happened!” begged Terry as she saw her three friends rise as if to leave the room.
“I don’t see why he can’t,” spoke Dorothy quickly. “You are quite ‘decent,’ as mother’s theatrical friends say when they mean they are dressed enough to have gentlemen friends in their room—with plenty of chaperons,” and she laughed gayly.
“Ask him to come up, Moselle!” Sim ordered with sudden decision.