Still not daunted, however, Marjorie half rose from her seat, but just at that moment the waitress in question disappeared with a tray of dishes.
Lily gave her order for hot chocolate with whipped cream, and fancy cakes, to the waitress who stood at their table. "Does that suit you, Marj?" she inquired.
"Yes, thanks!" replied Marjorie; but at that moment she would have agreed to corned-beef and cabbage. She watched eagerly for the girl to reappear; finally she was rewarded by seeing the two waitresses enter together.
As her own girl came towards them, she leaned over and asked earnestly,
"Can you tell me the name of the waitress—over there?"
"Jennie Perkins," replied the girl, quietly.
Marjorie's face fell; she must be mistaken. Then an idea came to her; perhaps it was Frieda, under an assumed name!
"Has she worked here long?" pursued Marjorie.
"I think so—but I've only been here a week myself, and she was here when I came!"
The girl had disappeared again, and Marjorie turned reluctantly to her refreshment. She kept watching the swinging door, hoping that the girl would reappear and give her an opportunity to question her. But she did not return before Marjorie and Lily had finished their chocolate, so they were obliged to leave the shop, as much in the dark as ever.