"We got the most important clew in the old bamboo cane," said Cleo, seriously. "That was literally stuffed with papers, and one was a baptismal certificate, giving your name, Mary, as Marie Hastings Dunbar."
"Dunbar!" repeated Mary, "and the men all called daddy Dunnie. That was his name, Dunbar!"
"Yea, and Aunt Audrey has found out that Constance Hastings, your mother's mother, is in one of the finest hotels in New York now! The Hastings own the most famous orchid collection in this country."
"They are millionaires," began Mary, but her voice was almost scornful.
"Yes, I know. Aunt Audrey has talked with Mrs. Gilmore Hastings over the telephone. She will be apt to take you from us, if you don't hold tight."
"Never! Never! Never!" defied Grace. "She is our Mary—yes, cousin Mary, for isn't Cleo's Aunt Audrey our Aunt Audrey—by vacation scout laws?"
Only the girls that they were could have absorbed so many surprises at a sitting, but such is the nature of nature's best product, and that product is always lively, happy girls!
What happened between that time and next morning would take volumes to relate, but it might as well be admitted that Jennie had to fairly camp out in the hall that night to stop the talking, and it was away past midnight when she succeeded. Even then it would be false to claim that Mary actually slept.
Early in the evening Mrs. Dunbar had very carefully unfolded the story to Professor Benson when he came down over the mountain in the car Mrs. Dunbar had ordered. So that he, too, was somewhat prepared for the astounding surprise. The return of Jayson Dunbar from the mystery of orchid land seemed almost too wonderful, but the Professor admitted he had always hoped Jay would "turn up."
"And every letter I wrote to mother I kept hinting that the glories of Bellaire were actually taking root in my soul," said Cleo, as the girl dressed next morning, almost unconscious of the task they were performing. "Now she will understand the metaphor."