“Oh, the food won’t be wasted!” replied Marjorie, undisturbed by the accusation. “I mean to take it home with me. We can feed it to the girls at the tea-house.”
“It’s possible,” observed Doris slowly, keeping her eyes fixed on a distant point near the entrance of the park, “that you may not have to take it home.” Suddenly she jumped up and waved her arms in ecstasy.
“Doris, are you having a fit?” asked Ethel, watching her motions in perplexity.
“I presume,” said Marjorie, “that the young lady’s husband is coming.”
“He is! He is!” cried the happy bride. “And it’s only twenty-five after six—so I guess he didn’t wait to get his supper.”
Marjorie uttered a groan of mock distress.
“I thought we couldn’t run away—” she began; but Mrs. Munsen hastened to interrupt her by assuring Doris that there was still plenty to eat.
“But I do believe he has two men with him,” continued Doris, who had not been listening to the remarks which had just been made for her benefit. “It must be—yes—it is—Jack Wilkinson and John Hadley!”
“Well, of all the nerve!” cried Marjorie. “That beats everything! I wonder who they think invited them!”
“Roger probably,” answered Doris, meekly.