There was plenty to talk about at the supper table that evening, without bringing up the mystery of the fires. Jane had to tell all about the new young men she had met and the fun they had had over at the Reeds’. She thought it was a crime for Mary Louise to have missed it all.
“But I had a caller,” announced her chum. “In a different way, my afternoon was just as thrilling as yours!”
“You don’t mean David McCall, do you?” snapped Jane.
“Oh no. He’s gone home. No—not a man. A girl. Adelaide Ditmar.”
“Adelaide Ditmar! What in the world did she want?”
“I’ll tell you,” replied Mary Louise. “And you must listen, too, Mother, for I want your advice.” And she proceeded to outline the proposition which the young woman had made to her.
“I want to go into it,” she concluded. “I think it means everything to Adelaide. Lots of people have been poorer than the Ditmars at one time or another, but I don’t believe anybody has ever been much more desperate.”
Jane frowned.
“I don’t see why we have to give up our vacation and work hard just because a married couple can’t get on!” she objected.
“You don’t have to,” replied Mary Louise. “But it happens I want to. And I think Mabel Reed will be keen to help—if you don’t want the job, Jane. So, if you don’t mind, I’ll run right over there after supper.”