“And my question not answered,” Ronny sighed plaintively.
“The answer to your question is the road to argument.” Marjorie cannily shook a finger at Veronica.
“All right. You’ve suppressed me for the time being. Never fear. I’ll bob up again on the finance question when you least expect it,” she made cheerful prediction.
“It’s a sweet, precious pet, and it sha’n’t be suppressed.” Marjorie reached out and stroked Ronny’s arm.
“That’s what you call Ruffle when you are trying to coax him to jump through your arms. You can’t hope that I’ll be much impressed by such blarney,” Ronny pointed out with hastily assumed dignity. “I’m going to leave you now. I came here for a purpose, but I’ve forgotten what it was. I’ll have to go back to our room and consult Luciferous. Luckily, I confided in her before starting out.” Ronny flitted from the room in her graceful, light-footed fashion.
“I wish I could see fluffy old Ruffle and squabble with him and General for our favorite chair.” Marjorie’s eyes grew suddenly wistful. “And, Captain! I miss her most of all. More so this year than I did before I was graduated.”
“I miss Father and Mother sometimes, but Hal is the one I miss.” Jerry’s color heightened a little as she mentioned her brother’s name to Marjorie. “You know Hal and I were pally at home. Outside the house he was always with the boys, but inside we spent many hours together. He taught me to box, fence, swim and ride. And during the past two summers at the beach you’ve seen for yourself how much we have been together.”
During the short Thanksgiving vacation in Sanford Jerry had been faintly encouraged by Marjorie’s warmly cordial manner to Hal. The strain between them which her keen intuition had detected when at the beach had vanished. As a matter of fact, Marjorie welcomed the four days of pleasure and happiness at home as a release from responsibility. She wished to think of nothing but home and its charms. She hailed Hal frankly as her cavalier of old and treated him with all the gay graciousness of her first acquaintance with him.
Hal was too deeply in love with Marjorie not to understand her. He knew that she was not behaving toward him according to some carefully laid plan of her own. Her overflowing gaiety was spontaneous. She was like a blithe, lovely child, full of the joy of living, who looked to him to be her playmate. So Hal made a Herculean effort to crowd the love she did not want into his heart and close the door upon it. He resolutely forbade himself to think of her as other than his old-time “girl.”
“Hal is the finest young man I ever met, or ever expect to meet,” Marjorie said with an energy of enthusiasm far removed from love. “I hope he will find a girl who is as splendid as he is, and marry her. I wish Hal would fall in love with Ronny, and Ronny with Hal. They would be worthy of each other.”