“Just the thing!” exclaimed Mary Louise, enthusiastically. “Your father is the very man! Oh, Josie, how can I ever thank you! I know Danny would like to hear about the plan, too. Won’t you see him and tell him about it? He can tell you more about his uncle than I ever could.”
“That’s what I’ll do,” said Josie, decisively. “I’ll get O’Hara’s whole story from Danny, and then I’ll wire it to dad. Father will receive it this afternoon, and we should receive an answer from him not later than to-morrow night.”
“That will be splendid!” said Mary Louise.
“Yes,” echoed Irene, “and just think of the happiness it will give Danny’s uncle to know that he is free once more to retrieve himself in the eyes of the world!”
Mary Louise smiled a glad smile, and thought to herself that Danny, too, would be overjoyed at the news, but she did not give her thought utterance. An unaccountable shyness came over her when she thought of Danny and the delightful night ride of the evening before.
Then the tired girl fell back on her pillow. The strain of the night before had told on her, so, sending her girl friends from the room, she turned over into a wonderful slumber that lasted almost through the afternoon.
About five, Mary Louise arose, bathed and slipped into her soft pink dressing-gown. Her grandfather entered her little private sitting room as she was turning from her mirror, and on Mary Louise’s assuring him that she was perfectly well and rested now, he seated himself in the one large chair the hotel room held.
Then Mary Louise threw a pillow at his feet and clasping her knees in her hands, she told him all of her adventure: the tale of O’Hara, the night ride and the lost automobile.
The Colonel tenderly smoothed her dark curls as she talked, and when she had finished, he told her of his pride in her in words which made Mary Louise’s heart glow.
“Have you seen Danny?” Mary Louise asked at last.