“I wouldn’t be in your way, Marjorie?”
“No indeed!” she replied, heartily. “Let’s make it a bargain! We’ll have our vacation together—provided, of course, your mother is well enough to go.”
“Oh thanks!” he said, fervently.
They had reached the main building now, and Marjorie stopped at the door-step.
“Come see me next Sunday!” she said, cordially. “Lily will be there, and perhaps some more young people.”
“I’d be delighted!” said John, turning to leave her. But he would have preferred to have an invitation for a time when he might see her alone.
Marjorie entered the building, and made her way to the room where the rest of the graduating class were gathered. With a sharp pang of regret she realized that this was the last time they would ever be together as students of Miss Allen’s school. No doubt they would often meet later as alumnae, but it would never be the same. It seemed such a short time since they had entered as freshmen—when she and Ruth Henry had ridden up from their home town together, wondering what it would all be like. She was so thankful that Ruth had not dared to come back to the school after her expulsion from the Girl Scouts the preceding summer; her absence had made the year singularly pleasant and peaceful. Yes, Marjorie Wilkinson had been happy during those four years of boarding school life, and she was sorry that it was all over.
As soon as she had entered the room, Lily rushed forward with her bouquet.
“Marj! You forgot your flowers!”
“Oh, thanks, Lil!” cried the other, gratefully. “And I forgot to thank John, too. But I’ll see him again.”