“That must be Pauline’s aunt,” Mary Louise thought, noticing what a hard, unpleasant face the woman had, how unattractive she was, in spite of her elegant clothes. “No wonder Pauline doesn’t want to live with her!”
“Hello, Pauline!” she said brightly. It was wonderful to meet somebody she knew in this big, strange city.
Pauline, who had not noticed Mary Louise, looked up in surprise.
“Oh, hello—uh—Emmy Lou,” she replied.
Mary Louise laughed and stood still. “We’ve had all sorts of excitement at Stoddard House, Pauline. I want to tell you about it.”
The woman and the blond girl continued to walk on, but Pauline stopped for a moment.
“You mean besides last night?” she asked.
“Yes. Another robbery. Mrs. Macgregor——”
“Tell me at supper time, Emmy Lou,” interrupted Pauline. “These people are in a hurry. I’ve got to go.”
Mary Louise was disappointed; she did so want to ask Pauline whether Ida’s story were true. Now she’d have to wait.