“She’ll return presently,” Marjorie made mysterious answer.
But it was fully an hour afterward before Muriel suddenly popped into the room, closing the door quickly but soundlessly after her.
“Excuse my conspirator entrance,” she began just above a whisper. “I didn’t care to have the Ice Queen know where I went. I ducked out of our room without saying a word. I promised to tell you what she said, Marjorie, to our plan.” Muriel’s eyes were bright with the importance of her information. “Don’t turn all colors with surprise. She says she’ll go to Sanford with me for Christmas.”
CHAPTER VII.
UNFLATTERING COMPARISON
While Marjorie Dean and Muriel Harding had been earnestly discussing a welfare invitation for difficult Doris Monroe, the latter had been spending a couple of very disagreeable hours with Leslie Cairns. Leslie had seen fit to assume the particularly dictatorial air which of all her category of unpleasant moods Doris most thoroughly detested.
To begin with Leslie had come to meet Doris at the Colonial fresh from a hot argument with the Italian, Sabatini, whom she had seen fit to call on at his garage and scathingly upbraid for being a “cheating dago quitter.” Leslie argued that, for the amount of money she had paid Sabatini he should have stood out against the threats of Signor Baretti and declined to put the busses back into service.
“You are no lady, but the creza girl; thick head you have,” Sabatini had finally shouted at Leslie when his temper broke all bounds. “You are the foolish. I don’ run the busses when Baretti say I must, I get my franchisa take from me. Then don’ run, anyhow. You get that through your head, you can.”
“Then give back part of that money, and cut out the pet names,” Leslie had blazed back at him. “You’ll find out who you’re talking to, you thieving dago, before you are many weeks older. I’ll break you. Put you out of business. Just like that!” Leslie had given her usual imitation of what she fondly believed would have been her father’s way of dealing with the situation.
As a matter of fact her father, Peter Cairns, would never have figured personally in any such affair. He would have placed it in the hands of a subordinate below his rank as financier, who would have in turn detailed his subordinate to act and so on down until one competent to deal with the Italian had been secured.