“What didn’t she say? The fellows didn’t go in, and I was just fool enough to blurt out the whole song and dance. It might have been all right, if Aunt Tillie hadn’t been in the room. It just seemed like she couldn’t keep her hand out of the pie.”
“Did she scold you?”
Queenie’s eyes flashed with anger.
“She sure did butt in with her say. ‘The city’s no place for a wild ’un like her,’ she says, lookin’ daggers at me. ‘But I tell you what ’ud fix her—let me take her back to the country with me. I’ll keep her away from the fellows!’”
“Then you can believe I flared up. ‘Be buried on that farm, in the wilds of nowhere!’ I yells. ‘I should say not!’”
“Well, the family kep’ on arguin’ for a while, and at last I went to bed. And today before they were up, I slipped out. I went straight to Mr. Hadley—he gave me his address last night. His mother made me eat a nice breakfast, and pretty soon your brother showed up. Then he said he’d call you.”
She paused, hardly daring to look at Marjorie. She expected to receive another scolding, milder perhaps than the one her parents had given her but just as serious. But Marjorie merely asked her what she intended to do.
“I don’t know—I only make ten dollars a week at my job, and there’s not much chance of a raise. I’ll have to get along somehow till I can get a better job.”
“Suppose you stay here until I go home,” suggested Marjorie, laying her head wearily against the pillow, “and then go home with me for a vacation. You can find a new position when you come back.”
“You really mean it, Miss Wilkinson?” cried Queenie, gratefully.