The girls boarded the train together; but Marjorie sat with Lily as far as the Junction. When, however, the time to change trains arrived, Ruth found herself alone on the station platform with Marjorie. There was nothing to do but be sociable; besides, Marjorie must not suspect that anything had happened in their relationship to alter their friendliness.
The coach they entered was comparatively empty; Marjorie chose a seat by the window, and Ruth sat down beside her.
“I believe I’ll do my crocheting,” said Marjorie, opening her velvet hand-bag, and taking out a square of filet that was all too familiar to Ruth. “I lost it last week behind Lily’s cot, and I haven’t done nearly so much as I wanted to. I’m making a camisole top for Miss Phillips for her birthday; do you think she’ll like it?”
Ruth’s face became scarlet. Fortunately for her, the other girl was too busy with her work to notice. She leaned over, and pretended to button her spat.
“Yes, it’s lovely, Marj,” she replied. “When is her birthday?”
“It’s the sixteenth of April; I want to give it to her the day we get back. Would you buy the silk and make it up, or give it to her just as it is?”
The girls discussed the matter, and Ruth suggested a way of making it.
“If I come over next week,” asked Ruth, “will you show me that pattern? I’d like to make it for mother.”
“Certainly; I never knew you could crochet till Lily told me you and Helen and Doris were the only ones in the troop who won their second-class badges on that account.”
“Yes,” said Ruth, quite composed by now, “I learned the last time I was home. You see I didn’t have any house-party to keep me busy, so I thought I might as well do something useful!”