Mrs. Hadley received Marjorie’s telegram while she was at luncheon. She read it and handed it to Dorothy.
Dorothy scanned it, frowned, and half closed her eyes. The name sounded strangely familiar.
“Marjorie Wilkinson?” she repeated. “Where have I heard that name before?”
“You’ve probably heard John and me speak of her,” said Mrs. Hadley. “Now what do you suppose she wants? I wonder if John proposed—”
But Dorothy was not listening.
“I’ve heard you speak of a Marjorie, but you never mentioned her last name. What school did she go to?”
“She graduated from Miss Allen’s Boarding School last June,” replied Mrs. Hadley.
“Yes, yes, of course. That is familiar too. Somebody I knew went there—some relative of mine—”
“Yes?” said Mrs. Hadley, now giving the girl her undivided attention. Perhaps the presence of Marjorie Wilkinson would help to make her remember who she was. “Can’t you recall the name of the relative?”
“No, but she was a near one. Oh, I wish—” But Dorothy’s voice trailed off sadly; her mind had come up against a blank wall.