Janet bowed before the storm. “I won’t, mother,” meekly. “Indeed, Marjorie, I did not mean to insult you in any way.”
“I am sure you didn’t,” answered Marjorie, more puzzled than hurt by Janet’s peculiar manner; they had been from their first meeting sworn allies and good comrades. “Please think no more about it, dear.”
“What dirty money!” Mrs. Fordyce withdrew her hand from the table hastily. “Do take it away.”
“With pleasure,” laughed Janet, recovering somewhat her usually sunny disposition, and she was about to gather up the soiled bank notes when her mother stopped her.
“No, you must not touch them,” she declared, and Marjorie opened her eyes at her vehemence. “I will have Calderon send them to the Treasury to be redeemed.”
“Beg pardon, ma’am,” said Perkins from behind the half-open door. “Captain Nichols is at the telephone and wishes to speak to——”
“Me, Perkins?” and Janet sprang to her feet.
“No, Miss Janet, he asked for Miss Langdon.”
“Won’t you take the message for me, Janet?” inquired Marjorie, laying a paper-weight over the receipted bills.
“No, certainly not,” and Janet disappeared from the room.