It was the opening day of the tea-house, and Marjorie awakened early and ran to the window to see whether the sun was rising. All night she had been dreaming of dark, rainy weather and a gloomy, unsuccessful beginning; perhaps this sense of anxiety was the cause of her early awakening. She almost laughed out loud when she saw the glowing light over the tree-tops in the east.
“Ethel!” she cried exultantly to her companion. “Do wake up! We’re going to have a perfect day to start!”
The other girl opened her eyes sleepily and looked across at Marjorie.
“Oh, dear! We do have to begin work today, don’t we?” she remarked, making no attempt to suppress a yawn.
“I should say we do! Aren’t you thrilled? Oh, Ethel, do you suppose any people will come in?”
“Of course,” replied the other, in a matter-of-fact tone. “Don’t forget Marie Louise’s sign.”
“Yes, they can’t help seeing that. And don’t you really think that if they come once they’ll be back again?”
“Yes, Marjorie—for the fiftieth time—yes!”
Marjorie laughed good-naturedly at Ethel’s teasing, and both girls started to dress. They entered the dining-room long before breakfast was ready; in fact, Mrs. Munsen and Florence, who was helping her that day, were only taking in the milk bottles.
“Go out and get some flowers for the table, girls,” suggested the housekeeper, evidently not too anxious to have so many in the kitchen at once. “There are some lovely roses over near the fence.”