“What rules?” asked the man, in amazement. Marjorie hastened to make the necessary explanation; and although Mr. Simpson protested that he was not to be classed as “a man along the road,” the girl stuck to her resolution.
“We don’t want to leave a loop-hole of uncertainty,” she said; “we can’t be too careful—it might disqualify us.”
“Then I positively can’t do anything to help you?” he inquired, in obvious disappointment.
“No, you can’t, dear,” replied his wife, quietly. “But—” she beamed all over her face, for she had taken a fancy to Marjorie—“but I can, and will!”
“Oh, thank you!” cried the girl, jumping up in joy. “And let’s settle down to business right away—for there isn’t a moment to be lost!”
It was five o’clock in the afternoon when Marjorie and Mrs. Remington finally left his house; too late, of course, to consider beginning to drive that night. They hurried back to the hotel and found three of the girls waiting for them on the porch. Daisy and Florence were missing.
As soon as Mrs. Remington had told her story she inquired for the other two girls. Lily and Ethel exchanged amused glances, and Alice informed her that they had discovered some friends at the hotel and had gone for a walk with them.
“Friends!” repeated Marjorie. “Then they could probably have helped us out on the money question!”
“Yes, I believe that they offered to,” remarked Ethel indifferently. “But I’m glad we don’t have to accept their assistance.”
“What’s the matter?” demanded Marjorie. “Who are they?”