“I hope we do. Now, let’s forget the tea-room for a while, and talk about the wedding. Did you decide upon your dresses?”
“Yes; Mae and I are going to wear pink flowered georgettes, with very pale green hats of plain georgette. And I think Marie Louise is wearing all pale green.”
“And Doris—does she want a train?”
“I suppose so; but I know she can’t have one. I really didn’t hear the particulars about her dress. But what difference does it make—Doris Sands would look lovely in anything!”
“She certainly would,” agreed Lily.
The girls turned to their studies, but both found it hard to concentrate that evening. College, which up to this time had seemed wonderful to Marjorie, appeared dull and uninteresting in comparison with the two great events that loomed before her in the near future. She wished she could skip all the intervening days between then and the first of June, and be about to start on her new venture.
John Hadley’s promised letter, however, did not come so soon as she had expected, and she began to grow impatient of the delay. Each afternoon, after the last mail was in, an overwhelming feeling of despondency would take possession of her at the thought of waiting at least sixteen hours for news.
On the Saturday afternoon following her visit, when she came out of the post-office again empty handed, she began to wonder seriously how she would ever get through Sunday. She walked slowly up to her room and found Lily chatting with Agnes Taylor, another member of the freshman class.
“Marj, what is the matter?” demanded Lily, immediately. “You look as if you had lost your last friend!”
“Not quite so bad as that,” replied her room-mate, making a feeble attempt to smile. “Only I haven’t heard about our tea-house yet, and now there won’t be a mail until Monday morning.”