“All right. I am willing. Captain won’t care. She and General have gone for a ride. I’ll leave word on the official bulletin board to let them know where I am bound for and when to expect me home.”
Writing a hasty note, Marjorie tucked it into a small bulletin board, hung in the hall.
It was a rather long walk to the Warrens’ unpretentious little home. As they traversed the stretch of field leading directly up to it, Marjorie was forcibly reminded of a winter day when she had floundered across that very field through the snow on the errand of mercy which had ended in Lucy Warner’s unexpected revelation. To-day the open space of ground lay brown and frozen. It looked even more desolate than when covered with snow.
“I’m thankful I don’t have to live in that house!” Jerry’s exclamation broke up her reverie. “It’s a cheerless-looking place, isn’t it?”
“That is what I thought the first time I came here,” nodded Marjorie. “I was just thinking of that day last winter when I waded through the snow to get to it. That was the day I came down with tonsillitis.”
“I remember. You were all in when you left us to come here. You never told me anything about that call.”
Marjorie smiled whimsically. She had never given anyone the details relating to that particular call. She now replied to Jerry’s remark merely with: “Oh, I took Lucy a basket of fruit, went upstairs to her room and talked with her quite a while. When I went to her house I felt rather ill. My feet were wet from plowing through the snow. While I was there I forgot about it. When I started away from her house I had to wade through the snow again and then I went home and had tonsillitis.”
“Humph!” ejaculated Jerry. “You certainly took a lot of trouble for her. She must have realized it, too, for she’s been your fervent worshipper ever since. I hope Mignon hasn’t told her a lot of things that will undo all the good you’ve done. Lucy has been a changed girl since you and she became friends.”
“I am very fond of her. She is the brightest girl I have ever known.” Marjorie spoke with admiring sincerity. The two friends had left the field behind them and were now proceeding up the straggling path that led up to the house. “I do hope she is at home.”
“Umm!” was Jerry’s sole comment. Her sharp eyes were intently scanning the front windows of the house as though seeking to discover whether its tenants were within. Arrived at the door, she peered about in search of a bell. Finding none she doubled a plump fist and rapped energetically on a weather-stained panel of the door. An instant’s silence ensued. Listening acutely neither girl heard the sound of approaching footsteps from within. Failing to elicit a response, Jerry beat a loud tattoo upon the panel.