“I don’t know.” Leslie still demurred. “I——” she glanced about her at the little group of friendly, interested faces. She understood that her friends were hoping she might say “yes.” “I guess—so,” she said uncertainly. “Yes, I’ll accept the honor, mostly, though, to please you girls, and—Peter the Great.”
“Hurrah, hurray, hurroo!” Leila sent up a jubilant little cheer. “The world shall yet hear of us. Cairns and Harper, the greatest living promoters of high-class campus drama. That is what people will presently be saying about us.”
“Nothing succeeds like nerve,” Jerry declared.
“And it is experience that teaches the truth of that fine sentiment,” Leila came back with an innocent air that raised a general laugh at Jerry’s expense.
“I am a most thoughtless and inhospitable hostess!” Marjorie exclaimed as the wave of laughter subsided. “I should have told Delia to make ready a feast, and then——”
“Delia!” came in a concerted, delighted shriek from Leila and Vera.
“Of course. How could the Deans and the Macys ever get along without Delia? She’s our own, heart and soul.”
“Lead us to her,” begged Leila. “We’re not famished, Beauty. We bumped into Leslie on the train, and the three of us had luncheon together. Ah, but there was a happy pow-wow when we met, subdued and ladylike you may be sure. So it is not Delia’s delectable eats, but delectable Delia herself we are bent upon seeing.”
“Come along then.” Marjorie waved them kitchenward.
The visiting party burst into the kitchen upon Delia who sat placidly in her kitchen rocker shelling peas and humming to herself.