“Not very long.” Hal relinquished Marjorie’s hands slowly, deliberately. She stood looking at him with an expression of sweet welcome which came to him vaguely as something he had not hitherto seen in her face.
He had already warmly greeted Miss Susanna. She was now engaged in conversation with Professor Wenderblatt, who had come up to speak to her.
“There’s Lillian Wenderblatt over by the orchestra pit talking to Phil. I must see her about the auction. Back in a minute.” Jerry had not noticed any difference in Marjorie’s demeanor toward Hal. She left the two together on general principles.
“Were you surprised to hear my voice before you saw me?” Hal asked with a smile. He was trying to tell himself that he must not show Marjorie that he loved her. She did not like that.
“Yes; I didn’t recognize it for a minute. I only knew it was familiar—and beautiful,” she added with her charming lighting up of feature.
“Thank you. How are you, Marjorie, and the biography? You are the portrait girl tonight, aren’t you?” Hal was struggling valiantly to be impersonal. He wished instead to say to this lovely violet girl: “I love you. I love you.” The grace of her beauty was in his heart. The perfume from the violets at her waist was a breath of sweetness to his hungry soul.
“Yes, I am wearing my violet dress. I am well. The biography is progressing very slowly.” Marjorie felt an odd little chill at Hal’s pleasant inquiries.
“I’m going to the Arms with you,” Hal announced. “Miss Susanna insists that I shall stay there tonight. I must be on my way tomorrow. I’m planning a trip to Alaska. Expect to be gone all summer. I’ll go over to the campus tomorrow before I leave and call on Leila. She certainly is a grand old comrade.”
“I love Leila Greatheart, Hal,” Marjorie said loyally. “I’m so glad you came here to help her with her play.”
“Aren’t you just a little bit glad to see me for myself, Marjorie?” Hal could not resist putting this one question.