“I don’t know,” replied the other hesitatingly. “Maybe—if Mother is willing.... Does your husband approve, Adelaide?”
“Oh, yes, he’s keen about it! He has promised to do anything he can to help me. Buy all our supplies for us, and keep accounts, and even take turn in washing dishes, if we need him.... Oh, Mary Louise, please!”
Adelaide seized her hand excitedly, and Mary Louise could not bear to refuse point-blank.
“Mr. Frazier won’t like it,” she said.
“Who cares about that old stiff?” returned the other girl. “He has no business to charge such terrible prices. I’ll bet the people of Shady Nook will be glad to get out of paying them!”
Still Mary Louise hesitated. Was this plan just another proof of the Ditmars’ guilt in the burning of the cottages? No; that didn’t seem possible. Whatever crime Horace Ditmar might commit, Mary Louise felt sure that his charming wife could have no part in it. And she longed dreadfully to help her out.
“I’ll talk it over with Mother and Jane,” she finally agreed, “and let you know tonight after supper. Will you be home then?”
“Yes, indeed! Horace and I will be waiting for you on the porch of our bungalow.... And now I must go, Mary Louise, and talk over the plans with him. I’m really thrilled about it—it’ll give us a new interest in life. Oh, I do hope you’ll decide to help me!”
And, pressing Mary Louise’s hand affectionately, she darted off down the steps.
For a long time Mary Louise sat still, her knitting lying forgotten in her lap, while she thought over Adelaide’s startling proposition. Maybe it was the best thing in the world that could have happened; perhaps fate was playing right into her hands. The opportunity to know and to watch Horace Ditmar would be perfect; if he really were guilty, she surely ought to be able to find it out upon such close association.