Margery found the day long. From its beginning to its close walking was not less dangerous, and she had visions of her mother, Happie, even sure-footed Gretta, coming home in an ambulance, with broken bones. Laura played dismal music all the gray day till Margery almost screamed, but if it made Laura happy to be miserable gentle Margery did not like to thwart her, so bore the minor strains uncomplainingly.
It was a great relief when her mother came back safe and sound, a little earlier than usual, for Margery had been more anxious about her than about the girls. They, too, arrived with every bone intact, having triumphed over the pitfalls set that day by nature, but they came alone and late.
"Where's Bob?" asked Mrs. Scollard. The boy of the family never failed in escort duty to his sisters, unless he sent a substitute.
"That's what we are wondering," said Happie. "We waited fifteen minutes for him, then we locked the door and waited more than five minutes outside, then we came on without him. Isn't it strange?"
"He would have telephoned if he couldn't come, unless——" Gretta stopped herself.
"Unless he couldn't telephone," Mrs. Scollard finished the sentence for her. "Polly, run down-stairs, dear, and see if any message has been neglected by the boy."
Polly started to obey, but a rap on the door as she neared it checked her, and Happie opened it to Snigs, Snigs with a queer, excited face and a suppressed manner.
"Oh, hallo, Happie!" he said with forced jauntiness. "I came to tell you that Bob sort of slipped—tumbled down, like a chump, and he thinks he hurt his ankle, and he was afraid you mightn't like it—I mean he was afraid you'd be afraid it was worse than it is, so he sent me ahead to tell you it was nothing bad."
"Where is Bob?" cried Mrs. Scollard hastening forward.
"He telephoned Ralph to meet him. He's down-stairs at the door. I guess he's got to wait for the janitor to help him up—he came home in a cab," said Snigs.