Marjorie sniffed. “Penny, you idiot! It’s written all over his face whenever he looks at you. And when you’re not around he mopes, except when he’s shooting daggers with his eyes at Charles Curtis.”
Penny couldn’t help smiling. Then she frowned. “But that doesn’t mean I’ll be a bride very soon. Peter may love me, but neither of us has enough money to start in housekeeping. Maybe,” she added wistfully, “that’s why Peter doesn’t tell me now that he loves me.”
“Pooh.” Marjorie snorted. “You can live on love. Besides, we must have made a lot of money on the Lodge this summer.”
“Not really,” Penny told her. “We had to hire an awful lot of help, you know. And this whole month the laundry has been so huge we had to pay Mr. Taggart twice as much as he estimated in the beginning. It had to be taken into the village four times a week.” She sighed. “And the girls we originally hired to come out only to wait on the tables and help with the ironing had to work full time.”
“Never mind,” Marjorie said consolingly. “It’s been fun.”
Penny brightened. “Oh, I don’t mean that we didn’t make any money. There’s enough to see you and Jimmy through school. But Phil and I want you to go to college. Both of you.”
“We won’t go,” Marjorie said stanchly. “Not if it means you can’t marry Peter when he asks you to. After the experience we’ve had this summer we can both get jobs.” She pirouetted around the room. “Don’t you think I’d make somebody a wonderful secretary?”
“Wonderful.” Penny giggled. “But not a very dignified one. No, honey,” she went on seriously, “don’t you worry your pretty head about getting a job just yet. Things will work out somehow. I know they will.”
To herself she added, “If Peter asks me to marry him, I’ll say yes. Together we can work things out.”
“I tell you what let’s do,” Marjorie cried. “Let’s have dress rehearsal right now. Here, in your room. Just us and Judy ’cause she’s going to be my twin. And Ann Mary so she can give our costumes a final inspection.” She danced away.