“You have guessed something, Beauty. Was it not good advice that Midget gave me? Now to follow it.” Her head made a swift sudden turn from Marjorie to Leslie. “Will you be manager of the Leila Harper Playhouse, Leslie?” she asked practically, then added drolly: “I shall tear my black hair in a fine frenzy if you refuse.”
“Why—I—what?” Seated on the davenport Leslie had been leaning far forward, elbows on knees, hands cupping her chin, her eyes fixed on Leila. The unexpected suddenness of Leila’s question gave her a veritable jolt. She made a startled forward movement, slid off the edge of the davenport and sat down smartly on the floor.
CHAPTER III
LESLIE AND LEILA
“Can you blame me?” Leslie had finally managed to make herself heard above the gale of laughter that had attended her mishap. She still sat on the floor, regarding her laughing companions with half sheepish reproach.
“No-o,” Leila made mirthful answer. “Let us be assisting the new manager to rise, Jeremiah, since we are the strongest of this crowd.”
“Thank you. I can assist myself.” Leslie sprang to her feet, resuming her former seat on the davenport. “You certainly have handed me a jolt, Leila Harper. It’s the last thing I ever thought of.”
“Then let it be the first now.” There was a vibration of earnestness in Leila’s reply. “Summed up in three little words: ‘I need you.’ There’s no other girl on the campus so well-fitted as you for the job. You’re a good business person, Leslie. Better still, you’re thoroughly cosmopolitan.”
“Oh, I don’t think so.” Flushing at the praise, Leslie shook her head. “It’s my self-assured manner that gives me the impression of knowing a whole lot more than I really do,” she explained frankly.
“Rubbish!” came energetically from Vera. “You are what you are, Leslie Cairns—clever as—as,” she groped mentally for a fitting comparison,—“as Leila.”