“But suppose that it is an aunt, or a fond cousin——”
“Do it just the same!”
“I’ll try,” Marjorie promised. “Though I’d hate to be rude.”
“You won’t be,” returned Lily, smiling.
It was somewhat reluctantly therefore that the girl turned about and descended the stairway, trying to imagine who could be calling at such an early hour. Surely, she surmised, it must be a relative; no one else would dare to be so informal.
She was all the more startled, then, upon entering the big pleasant room, to see Queenie Brazier rush towards her. In fact, Marjorie was so taken aback that she actually forgot to speak.
“Miss Wilkinson, dear Miss Wilkinson!” cried the girl, anxiously. “Are you too mad to speak to me?”
“No, of course not, Queenie,” replied Marjorie, amused by the frankness of her greeting. “But—but—I was so surprised. I never thought of you!”
“Finished with the bunch of us, huh? Well, I don’t blame you one bit. After the way we stood you up——”
“Oh, no,” Marjorie hastened to reassure her. “Quite the other way about. I was sure that you had finished with me.”