With a cry of joy, Marjorie jumped out of the machine and embraced Miss Phillips; in the presence of her captain the girl seemed to gain something of her old self-control. It was then that Marjorie finally realised that Mr. and Mrs. Andrews were responsible for the whole trip, and that the palatial house was to be theirs.
“Oh, I’m so glad we’re going to have the whole week,” she said. “Thanks to our new friend and deliverer—Robert Felton!”
“Yes, and you’re in time for the meet tomorrow,” added Mrs. Andrews. “And we shall be glad to have you stay,” she turned toward the boy, hospitably—“are you far from home?”
“Not very,” replied Bob. “We live at Besley.”
“Then you can join our party?”
“Oh, do!” pleaded Frieda, for already she felt as if he were an old friend.
“There’s a canoe meet on hand for tomorrow,” put in Mr. Andrews. “And tennis matches for Thursday and Friday. The boys are to take part in them, too,—they’re to be mixed doubles.”
The boy’s eyes shone with anticipation; the program was decidedly to his liking.
“I’d love to stay,” he said, enthusiastically. “May I go call mother on the telephone? I’ll need some clothes——”
The mention of his mother brought Marjorie back to her own situation.