“Yes, there were four stolen,” agreed Mrs. Weinberger. “I suppose Mrs. Hilliard told you?”
Mary Louise flushed: she must be more careful in the future.
“I think that bleached-blond chorus girl took them,” observed Miss Weinberger. “She was here then and left the next day. That name of hers was probably assumed. ‘Mary Green!’ Too common!”
Mary Louise wanted to write this in her notebook, but caution bade her wait till the meeting was over.
The door opened, and an old lady came in, leaning on her cane. She was past eighty, but very bright and cheerful, with beautiful gray hair and a charming smile.
Mrs. Hilliard sprang up and offered her the best chair in the room and introduced Mary Louise to her. Her name was Mrs. Moyer.
Now the meeting began: the guests returned the books they had borrowed and discussed new ones to purchase. At half-past nine a maid brought in tea and cakes, and the evening ended sociably.
Thankful to slip off alone to write her observations in her notebook, Mary Louise went to her own room.
CHAPTER IV
A Midnight Visitor
Mary Louise put on her kimono and stretched herself out comfortably on her pretty bed, with her notebook in her hands. What a lovely room it was! What a charming little bedside table, with its silk-shaded lamp, its dainty ice-water jug—and its telephone. For that convenience especially she was thankful: she’d far rather have a telephone than a radio. Little did she realize how soon she was to find that instrument so useful!