“Not five minutes ago,” said Katy. “She just left me kitchen and I’ll say I never saw her lookin’ such a parfect picture. That new dress of hers is the most becoming one she has ever had.”
Almost unconsciously, Linda’s hand reached to the front of her well-worn blouse, and she glanced downward at her skirt and shoes.
“Um-hm,” she said meditatively, “another new dress for Eileen, which means that I will get nothing until next month’s allowance comes in, if I do then. The table set for four, which, interpreted, signifies that she has asked Marian in such a way that Marian won’t come. And the caution as to care with the soup means that I am to serve my father’s table like a paid waitress. Katy, I have run for over three years on Eileen’s schedule, but this past year I am beginning to use my brains and I am reaching the place of self-assertion. That programme won’t do, Katy. It’s got to be completely revised. You just watch me and see how I follow those instructions.”
Then Linda marched out of the kitchen door and started across the lawn in the direction of a big brown house dimly outlined through widely spreading branches of ancient live oaks, palm, and bamboo thickets. She entered the house without knocking and in the hall uttered a low penetrating whistle. It was instantly answered from upstairs. Linda began climbing, and met Marian at the top.
“Why, Marian,” she cried, “I had no idea you were so far along. The house is actually empty.”
“Practically everything went yesterday,” answered Marian. “Those things of Father’s and Mother’s and my own that I wish to keep I have put in storage, and the remainder went to James’s Auction Rooms. The house is sold, and I am leaving in the morning.”
“Then that explains,” questioned Linda, “why you refused Eileen’s invitation to dinner to-night?”
“On the contrary,” answered Marian, “an invitation to dinner to-night would be particularly and peculiarly acceptable to me, since the kitchen is barren as the remainder of the house, and I was intending to slip over when your room was lighted to ask if I might spend the night with you.”
Linda suddenly gathered her friend in her arms and held her tight.
“Well, thank heaven that you felt sufficiently sure of me to come to me when you needed me. Of course you shall spend the night with me; and I must have been mistaken in thinking Eileen had been here. She probably will come any minute. There are guests for the night. John is bringing that writer friend of his. Of course you know about him. It’s Peter Morrison.”