“Glad to hear it. I’d hate to hurt your feelings, Mrs. Macy.”
“Don’t mention it. There ain’t no such animal,” Marjorie retorted.
Smilingly, the two friends again went back to their letters. Jerry was soon lost in the many pages of Ronny’s long friendly message. Marjorie was finding equal pleasure in a long letter from Constance Armitage. Every now and then, one of the pair would read aloud a particular paragraph of her letter for the edification of the other.
Jerry had finished Ronny’s letter before Marjorie had come to the end of the one from Constance. She busied herself with a rereading of Muriel’s, smiling broadly to herself over it.
Marjorie was also smiling, as though she had suddenly come into the knowledge of an extremely pleasant secret. The affectionate sidelong glance she shot at Jerry seemed to indicate that it strictly concerned the latter.
Presently she took up the letter from Leslie Cairns. It was hardly more than a note, phrased in Leslie’s pithy fashion.
“Dearest Bean,” it began. “September’s near, and I’m glad of it. I’ve tried Newport, the Catskills, and various other lady-like resorts just to please Mrs. Gaylord, who is on the job, keeping an eye on Cairns II while Peter is carrying on a snappy financial war with the wolf pack in London. We’re home in little old New York now, and Hamilton will be my next stop. Have you a night’s lodging for a weary Traveler, should the spirit move me to drop down, just like that, upon you? Gaylord is so full of plans concerning what she ought to do, may do, and intends to do, next, she doesn’t know where she’s at. I hope she decides to visit her relatives, pronto. I can then gracefully kiss her good-bye, and beat it for Hamilton. I suppose the campus is looking as lively just now as a ten-acre lot after a circus has moved off it. Nothing doing there yet. What? I’m going to descend on Remson, and good old Fifteen again, though Peter hopes we’ll be housed at Carden Hedge by Christmas. I have a new car. It’s some speedy flash. I let it out the other day for Gaylord’s benefit. She almost lost her breath, and her confidence in Leslie is now missing. What’s the use in trying to write the news? I’d rather tell it to you. You may expect me. Love, as per usual, dear Bean.
“Faithfully (but bored to a frazzle),
“Leslie.”
“Listen to Leslie’s funny letter,” Marjorie commanded.