“Like me. Did you not just hear me say it?” Leila retorted.
“I must go to the Arms to see Miss Susanna this week,” Marjorie observed irrelevantly. No one appeared to be interested in her announcement. Jerry and Leila were conducting a laughing argument which had to do with Irish and non-Irish fishes.
“I love to talk to myself,” she made plaintive complaint when Jerry and Leila finally paused for breath.
“And I had far rather talk to you, Beauty, than to some P. G.’s I know,” Leila assured with deep meaning.
“You may talk to me, Bean,” Jerry graciously permitted. “I am appreciative.”
During the remainder of the short hike across the campus Marjorie became the laughing, but unimpressed, recipient of flattering attention.
“Jerry,” she burst out abruptly, soon after the two girls were in their own room, “it isn’t enough for us to say to each other that we are glad Miss Walker didn’t write that letter. It is not fair to her not to tell her the whole thing. Do you think it is?”
Jerry cocked her head to one side and considered. “Nope,” she answered after due deliberation. “I suppose she ought to be informed that she is not the villain we took her to be. It may take marvelous managing by Marvelous Manager to tell her the awful truth without rousing her ire. According to Gentleman Gus she is anything but a lamb-like person when she isn’t pleased.”
“Would you be willing to go with me to see her?” Marjorie asked, her brown eyes meditatively fixed on Jerry. “You are as——”
“Deep in the mud as you are in the mire,” supplied Jerry humorously.