“We aren’t likely to, with you around,” teased Florence. “By the way, I had a letter from mother and she wrote that she went to see Mrs. Trawle. Everything’s fine, she says, very neat and clean, and the baby’s growing beautifully.”
“Then our work is really worth while, isn’t it?” asked Alice.
“Yes, I think so,” said Marjorie; “I know the cause is worth while, but I can tell you better later on whether we are actually making money. It’s hard to judge so soon—after so big an outlay.”
She looked a little anxious as she spoke, and Lily, who could always read her chum’s face like a book, wondered whether she were not more worried over the proposition that she let the others see.
“Well, we’re having a good time, anyway!” she remarked, gaily. “And we should worry whether dad ever gets his five hundred back!”
“Oh, Lil!” said Marjorie, reproachfully. “You know we’d never do that!”
Lily, however, was not satisfied by Marjorie’s manner, and noticed that she asked frequently for her car, so that she might do her marketing at the more economical stores, and spent more and more time each evening over her accounts. John, too, found her unusually preoccupied, and hardly ever succeeded in getting her thoughts entirely away from the tea-house.
On the following Saturday evening, however, she consented to go to see a moving picture with him, more because she wanted to stay up until Mrs. Munsen came home from Anna’s party than because she wanted recreation. They drove into town in the car, to attend one of the larger theatres; so, during their ride through the park they found plenty of time for conversation.
“Are you beginning to be worried about your finances, Marjorie?” John asked.
“Well, I really don’t know,” she replied. “We spend money as fast as we make it, but of course our business is increasing. But now the girls are beginning to talk about vacations, and that may mean hiring extra help.”