"Monte romantic?" smiled Marjory. "That's the one thing in the world he is n't."
"Just who is he, anyway?" inquired Beatrice.
"He's just Monte," answered Marjory.
"And Madame Monte—where is she? I noticed by the register there is such a person."
"I—I think he said she had been called away—unexpectedly," Marjory gasped.
She turned aside with an uncomfortable feeling that Beatrice had noticed her confusion.
CHAPTER XIX
AN EXPLANATION
The following week Monte devoted himself wholly to the entertainment of Marjory and her friends. He placed his car at their disposal, and planned for them daily trips with the thoroughness of a courier, though he generally found some excuse for not going himself. His object was simple: to keep Marjory's days so filled that she would have no time left in which to worry. He wanted to help her, as far as possible, to forget the preceding week, which had so disturbed her. To this end nothing could be better for her than Peter and Beatrice Noyes, who were so simply and honestly plain, everyday Americans. They were just the wholesome, good-natured companions she needed to offset the morbid frame of mind into which he had driven her. Especially Peter. He was good for her and she was good for him.