The unexpected, but welcome, amiability almost overwhelmed Gloria, but she remembered her lines.
“Let’s go into the waiting room,” she suggested. “My friend is in there. Dave, wait, if you wish. I suppose we will be going up presently three of us.” This prospect conciliated Dave, for he wagged his head pleasantly.
“Oh, he must not go,” declared the stranger. “There is not another taxi around, and I know what it is to be stranded in a place like this. Tell me, dear, how is my little Jackie?”
“Better,” said Gloria. “She only seems to need quiet and rest.” They were entering the station and Jane stood waiting, beside the big round stove. “There is my friend,” said Gloria, leading up to Jane. “Jane, this is Mrs. Corday, the mother of one of my chums. Mrs. Corday, this is my near-mother, Miss Morgan.”
“Near-mother? How quaint! I’m a near-mother myself——”
“Jane has been my friend-nurse since I was a tiny tot,” Gloria hastened to interject, lest some real, personal complication might arise. “My mother died when I was a baby. I’m Gloria Doane.”
“Gloria! The Gloria! About whom Jack continually raves,” replied Mrs. Corday. “Do let us sit down a moment and get acquainted. No chance for anything so human up at that horrid school.”
This exactly suited Gloria. She would be able to detain Mrs. Corday without using any of the strategy she had been so feverishly concocting.
They arranged themselves on the bench under the high window. Jane appeared perfectly content, (Jane would,) and the strange woman, who looked startlingly out of place in the humble station, had the grace to affect ease, whether or not she felt it. Gloria focussed a smile and held it.
“Now, dear,” began Mrs. Corday, “don’t mind if I’m impatient, but I must hear all about darling Jack. You are the very girl who was with her on the lake when she fell ill, are you not? I couldn’t mistake the name——”