“I’m not so sure of that.” Miss Susanna showed inclination toward distrust of the lawyer. “Uncle Brooke never did things by halves. You must remember, this particular transaction was made less than two years before his death. He was then over eighty years old. He knew his end was near. He had often said as much to me. I believe he would have appointed me to choose ‘the one’; not the man Norris. I knew Uncle; his hopes, dreams; ideals, and he knew that I knew them. I can’t understand why he did not confide in me at the time he formulated a definite plan.” Her voice trembled a trifle on the last words, the manifestation of a hurt spirit.
“I’ve no doubt but that the lost papers may hold an explanation of that,” Marjorie advanced comfortingly, “and they’re tucked away somewhere in this very house. Somehow, I have faith in Lawyer Norris. Mr. Brooke would not have chosen him for such an important responsibility if he hadn’t been sure of his truth and honor.
“Uncle Brooke’s staunchest advocate.” Miss Susanna drew Marjorie, standing beside her, into the circle of an arm. “If neither the papers, nor Lawyer Norris should be found, I could still carry out his wish. The important point to be considered, after all, would not be the fifty thousand dollars. The finding of ‘the one’ would be the real problem, except—” her eyes came to rest with luminous tenderness upon the lovely face bent seriously upon her,—“the one has already been found. I found her for Uncle Brooke, long ago, not far from my gates. She helped a very cranky old lady pick up an overturned basket of plant pots, and showed her how beautiful girlhood might be. Afterward, I came to know her better, not only as a friend, but as an inspiration to Uncle Brooke’s college, giving her best to it because of her appreciation of its founder. He chose the motto ‘Her ways led upward toward the stars,’ as applicable to ‘the one.’ Without knowing it I chose the same motto as best suited to Marjorie. It is almost as though I had received his direct approval of my choice.”
CHAPTER XVI
LESLIE’S QUEER PROBLEM
“And is it yourself, and no other? Is it not time you put in an appearance at the Hall with many apologies for having forgotten us?” Leila Harper ushered Marjorie into her room, her smiling lips in decided apposition to her severe tone.
“It is myself, and, may I ask, who else might it be?” Marjorie retorted as she and Leila enthusiastically wrung hands.
“Ask me nothing. I am that glad to see you, I have no flip answer at my tongue’s end. We have all been busy, it would seem. I have been at the Playhouse, with only the typewriter for company, pounding out the parts for my opening play. Midget was invited to become co-editor with Jane Everest on the ‘Campus Echo.’ Leslie is wrestling with a queer problem of her own. You will hear more about it this evening. And Hamilton Arms has held you a willing captive. We should have come to see you in the evening, except that we have had callers here every night for a week. The Bertramites dinner at Baretti’s ended my social rush for a while. I shall begin to lead the life of a hermit for the next three weeks.”
“You can’t. Miss Susanna had ordered yours and Vera’s presence at the Arms at seven o’clock dinner tomorrow night. You are to bring Kathie, Lucy, Lillian and Doris with you. You are to tear them away from any engagements they may have made. Goldendede has something important to tell the Travelers. Robin and Phil are coming, too. I’ve already ’phoned them.”
“Now what has happened?” Leila cocked her head inquisitively to one side. “This much I can guess. Leslie knows all about it. When I asked her for news of the Arms last night, knowing that she had lunched there yesterday, she had little to say except that the library looked fine, and Miss Susanna was well. I saw mystery in the tail of her eye. But I am so polite. I said nothing to her about it.” Leila gave Marjorie a drolly hopeful glance.