“You go by yourself.”
Mary Louise set a plate of chicken salad on the table. “It does look good, doesn’t it?” she remarked—“if I do say it myself!”
“Yum! Yum!” agreed Jane. “But what makes you think you don’t want to go over to the Reeds’ with me?”
“Because—I have other plans for this afternoon.”
“The mystery of the fires!” cried Jane, rolling her eyes. “Oh, Mary Lou, forget it for a while and have some fun!”
“No, I can’t. I’ve got to have a talk with the Ditmars.”
“You better stay away from them!” warned Jane. “You never can tell what that man might do if he got desperate!”
Nevertheless, Mary Louise was firm in her resolution not to join the young people, and she was thankful that she had stayed home, for no sooner had Jane gone to the Reeds’ and her mother to the Partridges’ than Mrs. Ditmar herself came to the Gays’ bungalow!
“Oh, Mary Louise, I’m so glad to find you alone!” exclaimed the young woman. “Have you any engagement, or can I talk to you for a while?”
“I haven’t a thing to do but knit,” replied Mary Louise, smiling to herself. “Jane has gone over to the Reeds’ to dance, but I was sort of tired, so I thought I’d just take it easy. And I’ll be delighted to have you, Adelaide.” She addressed Mrs. Ditmar by her first name, for though she had a prefix of “Mrs.,” she was, after all, hardly more than a girl. And Mary Louise wanted to make her feel at home.