But before they could get away the tea room began to empty itself. Billie’s Cousin Helen appeared in the doorway, with Mrs. Butler, looking like Elinor grown middle-aged, the beautiful aquiline nose slightly more pronounced, the blue eyes a little faded, but the same erect carriage which made her look an inch or more taller than the other women.
Mme. Alta, the music teacher, was there with Miss Gray. She was a fierce looking, dark-haired woman, her two upper teeth protruding over her lower lip like the tusks of a walrus, giving her a cruel animal expression. Mrs. Rogers, Belle’s mother, a small faded, intensely nervous little woman, joined the group, followed by Percival Algernon St. Clair’s doting parent, “the Widow St. Clair,” as she was known, a charming, plump, pretty woman, as good-natured as she was comfortably self-indulgent.
“Why, Wilhelmina, my darling, what is that large package you are carrying?” demanded Miss Campbell anxiously. “Has your papa sent you a present?”
“Oh, no, just—just a package of things I was going to leave here. We are going motoring for a while. You don’t mind, do you Cousin Helen?”
“No, my child, as long as you don’t go too fast. But do put down that box. You will injure yourself carrying it so long. Why don’t you put it in the motor? Why do you leave it here?”
“Oh, it isn’t mine,” said Billie.
“But I thought——” she commenced, when Mary pressed her hand.
“I mean I am keeping it for some one,” went on Billie lamely.
“My dear Miss Campbell,” put in Miss Gray—and Billie thanked her for the intervention—“it is a Blue Bird secret, you may depend upon it. You do not know school girls as well as I do.”