“I always thought Anna was too good to be true,” put in Daisy. “Most girls of her ability get more than we could afford to pay her.”
“And besides, now that I think of it,” said Mrs. Munsen, “we really ought to have considered it very strange for her to go on working in a place where she had such a dreadful experience as she claimed to have had. You wouldn’t find one man in a hundred willing to take a chance like that—let alone a girl!”
“Well, it’s all right now!” said Marjorie, getting up from the bed. “Now—how about some breakfast?”
“Yes, you must be starved, you poor child!” said Mrs. Munsen. “If you go down and start things, Marjorie, I’ll be with you in five minutes.”
“And put something on for those noble boys,” said Daisy. “They’ll probably be along soon!”
The girls separated to dress, but they could not stop talking about the event; indeed, they discussed it at breakfast, dinner, and supper, upon every occasion—during their duties at the tea-house and their leisure at home in the evening.
Nor did they confine their talking to their own party, for Marjorie, anxious to clear up the suspicion that was attached to the place, immediately informed all the newspapers; and when the report was confirmed by the police and even by the Chief Dry Agent of the city, it received substantial publicity. As a natural result, business increased as the days went by; the tea-house became more and more widely known to Philadelphians and their friends, and more generally patronized. As the time for closing drew near, Marjorie realized that her enterprise was an overwhelming triumph.
She would have considered the sale of the business and the fine little sum which she handed into Daisy’s keeping the culmination of their success, had it not been for an occurrence that took place on Labor Day—their last day at the tea-room. The whole thing came as a complete surprise.
It was supper time, and the tea-room was filled with guests. All the Girl Scouts in their uniforms were serving as waitresses; the boys were working in the kitchen under the direction of Mrs. Munsen; and even Mrs. Hadley had insisted upon taking a hand in the work. Just as Marjorie was wondering what they would do if any more patrons arrived, a motor drew up to the steps, and stopped while an impressive-looking man got out. He strode across the porch and opened the screen door in a manner that proclaimed him a person of dignity and authority.
“Is this the Girl Scout Tea-room?” he asked, in a tone clearly audible in every part of the room.