The next few weeks were indeed busy ones. Some friends of Mary Curtis arrived and a few friends of Charles dropped in for the weekends. Marjorie and Judy were constantly on the lookout for new romances among the young folks, and just as they were certain that one was developing, something would happen which would prove that they were wrong.
“Anyway,” Marjorie said to Judy, “there are two romances we can be absolutely sure of. Phil is in love with Adra, and Penny is mad about Peter.”
“And,” Judy chimed in, “Adra is in love with Phil and Peter is wild about Penny. I wouldn’t be surprised if they were all engaged before the end of the summer.”
“Neither would I,” Marjorie said, her blue eyes twinkling. “Phil and Penny can hardly wait for the arrival of Adra and Peter.”
They had been helping Theresa by emptying all of the scrap baskets from the various rooms in the Lodge into the big wire mesh one in the clearing. Later, when the wind died down, Pat would set a match to the papers.
Right now the wind was blowing so hard that it lifted a crumpled ball of paper from Judy’s hand and blew it smack against Marjorie’s face.
“Fate,” Marjorie said with a giggle, “obviously meant for me to read this before it got burned.”
Assuming an exaggeratedly serious air, she smoothed out the paper on her knee. Then she gave a little gasp. “Oh, Judy,” she cried. “It’s another anonymous letter. Remember? I told you about the one Phil got? This one was sent to Penny, and I’ll bet she crumpled it up and threw it away without saying anything to anybody.”
Judy nodded. “Penny’s like that. She wouldn’t pay any attention to a letter she got unless it was signed. What does this one say?”
“Th-this one,” Marjorie stammered, after reading it quickly, “fr-frightens me.” And she read the crudely printed words out loud: