Marjorie felt thankful for such staunch friends; and when, the following day, Daisy also offered to give up her vacation if necessary, and Agnes Taylor and two of her friends insisted upon substituting as waitresses so that the girls could go to Doris’s dinner party, she felt elated indeed. Her one disappointment was her failure to hire any help.
In the course of the three days following Ethel’s insertion of the advertisement in the papers, half a dozen girls applied for the positions, but none of them accepted it. As soon as they learned that the tea-house was the scene of the strange events which had been recounted in the newspapers, and that it was reported to be haunted, they all refused to consider Marjorie’s generous offer. If only, the girl thought, the reporters had not gone so into detail, had not recalled to the public mind the series of deaths that had occurred there several years before!
When the time for Doris’s party arrived, however, Marjorie made up her mind not to allow her anxieties to mar the pleasure of the event for herself or for the others. She was lucky enough to be able to go away with a free conscience, and she meant to enjoy her brief holiday to the fullest extent.
John Hadley drove over for the girls in his Ford a little before six and found all three of them waiting on the porch. Marjorie’s brother Jack was in the front seat beside him.
“I wonder who is to be the third man?” observed Marjorie, as she climbed into the place Jack vacated.
“But do you have to ask?” teased John, with a sly glance at Lily.
“Oh, Dick Roberts, I suppose!” laughed Marjorie. “Well—where is he?”
“He’s coming out from work on the train,” replied John. “I told him there wouldn’t be room in my poor little Ford.”
The drive to Doris’s house was a short one, although on such an evening as this, Marjorie would not have been sorry to have it much longer. She was glad, however, to see Doris again.
The bride was waiting for them in the hammock, her adoring husband beside her.