“Lieutenant of the troop,” replied Marjorie, with a salute.
“Well, sit down now and tell me all about it. I’ll send for my nephews—they waited up for you.”
The girls did as they were bidden and Mrs. Remington began a brief recital of their experiences. Before she had gone very far, the two young men of the house entered.
They were both typical Americans of the better class; neat, well-groomed, perfectly at ease in any surroundings. Marjorie could not help noticing a certain similarity of appearance to McDaniel and Cryton, a similarity that was due rather to environment than to any special resemblance. It was evident that they too were college men, and not surprising that they should be members of the same fraternity. For some unknown reason she took a dislike to them.
“We were so afraid that you wouldn’t make it,” drawled Milton, the older of the two. “And when eleven o’clock struck and still you didn’t come, we felt sure you had lost the game.”
“And Auntie would have been so triumphant!” added Vaughn. “Because she really didn’t want you to succeed!”
“Vaughn Crowell, what a story!” exclaimed the old lady, resentfully. “I’m not the one that didn’t want them to succeed!”
“Only that you would get out of buying all those motor-cars,” ventured Alice.
“Maybe not, but what good would that have done me? Didn’t I promise the whole amount to your fraternity house if the girls didn’t succeed? But I’m mighty glad that they have been so plucky!”
“What did you say, Miss Vaughn?” demanded Marjorie, sharply. “That the fraternity would have benefited by our failure?” She glanced significantly at Ethel.