Lucy’s green eyes opened wide, when, during her chat with Miss Archer, a tall figure loomed up beside her, speaking her name with politely-concealed eagerness. She was so fully engulfed by the pleasant embarrassment of the moment that she failed to note the battery of affectionately amused eyes bent upon her from the bridal group she had so lately deserted.
“Come on, girls, let’s vanish before she happens to look this way,” Jerry proposed. “She nearly fell dead with surprise, as it was, when she saw her future husband. Let’s not add to the shock.”
The little group promptly moved on into the salon. There they became immediately separated. Jerry was quickly hemmed in by further numbers of well-wishers. Leila, Vera, Helen, Phil and Robin were warmly hailed by Sanford friends they had made while spending holiday vacations with Marjorie and Jerry.
From the midst of a knot of Sanford friends Marjorie’s roving glance took in Leslie, standing at the edge of an animated group, her dark brows drawn together in a frown. “Leslie feels out of things,” was her instant thought. Excusing herself to her friends she hurried over to Leslie, with intent to take her in tow.
“Oh, Bean. I’m glad to get hold of you.” Leslie’s frown disappeared in an expression of patent relief. “I simply had to see you about something, but I hated to butt in on you and your Sanford friends.”
“What is it, Leslie?” Marjorie asked with quick concern. She was yet far from understanding Leslie’s complex nature.
“I’ve done something, Bean, something I thought would be nice for Jerry and Mr. Seabrooke. I’ve got away with the first half of the stunt—and,” Leslie paused, looking half abashed, “now I wonder how I’m going to get away with the last half. I thought it would be easy, but—well—I find it isn’t. It’s just struck me that Jerry and her husband may think I have a colossal nerve to—to——” Leslie stopped, coloring. “You’ll have to help me out, Bean,” she said desperately, with a short laugh.
“Of course I will. Tell me what you’d like me to do for you. I know you’ve planned something lovely for Jerry and Danny,” encouraged Marjorie.
“Maybe.” Leslie still looked doubtful. “All right. Here goes. You see since my father went to London there’s no one except me to use his private car on the railroad. I knew Jerry and Mr. Seabrooke were going to the Adirondacks on their honeymoon, so I thought it would maybe please them to go there in Peter’s car. If I had thought of it sooner, I’d have told Jerry about it. It never occurred to me until day before yesterday, and I’ve had to do some little hustling to get the car here in time. Believe me, I’ve kept the wires hot between here and New York. The car’s here; it came in at two o’clock this afternoon, and I was right there at the station yard to welcome it. I dropped out of the gang this afternoon, but they were all so busy they didn’t miss me. Now that’s part one—very nice and easy. What?” Leslie’s deliberate smile showed itself.
“Yes; What? You delightful plotter of happiness.” Marjorie’s face was alight with appreciation of Leslie’s plan. “Now that you’ve planned the surprise, and had all the trouble to make it come true, you want me to tell them about it. No, siree; you’re going to tell them about it yourself.”