“Of course,” answered Marjorie, forgetting her own weakened condition for the time being. “Is she all right?”
“Absolutely!” her brother assured her. “She’ll tell you the whole story when she comes.”
“Thank heavens!” cried the girl leaning back upon Daisy. “Now I know I will soon feel better.”
Obedient to Lily’s request she consented to go back to bed and to attempt to eat some of the dinner which was brought to her on a tray from the infirmary. At last Queenie arrived and, leaving John in his car, came right up to Marjorie’s room.
Both Lily and Marjorie were startled at her appearance; never had Queenie looked so pathetic, so crest-fallen, so utterly dejected. Instinctively Marjorie forgot her anger, and felt only sympathy towards the sufferer.
“Miss Wilkinson!” exclaimed the girl, bursting into tears as soon as she was inside the door. “I’ve run away from home!”
“Sit down, Queenie,” said Marjorie, in a soft voice; “and tell us all about it.”
“To begin with, I’m almost afraid to come to you, because I guess I got in like a burglar when I stood you up at the big game.”
“We were rather put out about it,” Marjorie admitted. “But I supposed there was some good reason——”
“There was. I was elopin’!”