Louis was very angry that Marjorie was going from home; he would not believe that it was necessary, and he thought that when he came back for the Long Vacation, it would be a great nuisance to find her gone. He had quite come to the conclusion lately that he liked Marjorie better than Phyllis, and now she was going away from him. He wished heartily that Captain Fortescue had never come to Rosthwaite, upsetting all their plans, and making a break in the happy little party at Fernbank.
Louis Verner was good-natured and easy-going, but he had no power of taking a calm, sensible view of anything; he wanted life to go on smoothly and comfortably, and he could not see why it should not always do so.
"Louis," said Marjorie, as they drove along, "when I come home, the first question I shall ask you will be this: 'What are you going to be?' And I shall expect a satisfactory answer!"
"Oh yes. I'm sure to have decided by that time; but it's very difficult, isn't it?"
"Not if you give your mind to it, and find out what you're fit for."
"Oh yes! Well, I will try, Marjorie. It's an awful nuisance your going away; you might have helped me to settle."
"I? What nonsense, Louis! No one can do that but yourself. But you must do it. I can see Colonel Verner is very worried about it."
"Yes, I believe he is. Well, I will try. But don't let us talk about that now, Marjorie. You'll write to me, of course?"
"I will if I've time, Louis; but I don't know what my duties will be," she said, laughing.
"Oh! Never mind the duties. I shall expect to hear from you—don't forget, Marjorie."