“But you won’t be working over the week-end!” she pleaded.
“No, but it’s pretty far from where we live to Cape May. I mean, that after this summer’s vacation, I really can’t afford the expense.”
Marjorie searched her mind for a method of persuasion.
“Would you consider coming as my treat?” she said. “It would make my good time so much greater to have you. Please!”
But Daisy shook her head firmly.
“It’s impossible, Marj, thank you just the same! Even if it weren’t for the expense, I really oughtn’t to leave mother. It’s been hard enough for her already.”
Reluctantly, Marjorie accepted her refusal, for she could not help seeing that Daisy was right. As she said, it would be selfish of her to leave her mother again; and Daisy was never selfish. Perhaps, too, it might be better. If the girl were not Olive, there would be no use in dragging Daisy away from her home; and if she should turn out to be the missing sister, it might even be wiser to break the news to both girls less abruptly. Such a shock might prove disastrous to either or both of them, coming as it would, after the long strain.
So the rest of the scouts discussed the invitation and decided that the first week-end after they had returned to the East would be most suitable. Accordingly, Marjorie wrote to Mrs. Hadley immediately.
The evening before the scouts were to leave, Kirk Smith asked Marjorie and Daisy to go out with him to see the moon. Marjorie surmised that he wanted a little last talk with them privately.
“Daisy,” he began, as soon as they were away from the cabin, “suppose we don’t write to each other? It would be too much—I couldn’t bear the excitement of getting a letter from you and finding no news of Olive. And I’m sure you would feel the same, if you heard from me. So, let’s agree not to write, unless we have something definite to communicate. Is it a bargain?”