"And who is Beverly Randolph? I had no idea you had friends in New York."
"Oh, he isn't exactly a friend—at least he wasn't till this morning. You know who he is, Uncle Henry; that nice-looking boy Elsie was talking about at dinner last night. Wasn't it fortunate I recognized him. He is just as nice as he can be, and I'm going to introduce him to Elsie."
"Come upstairs at once," said Mr. Carleton, a trifle less sternly. "We have been very anxious about you; you must never do such a thing again."
Marjorie was dumb with astonishment. Beyond being late for breakfast she had no idea that she had done anything wrong. She followed her uncle in silence, and did not utter another word until they had reached their own apartment, where they found Mrs. Carleton in a condition bordering on hysteria, and Elsie trying to look solemn, but secretly rather enjoying the situation. "I should really think, Marjorie, that you might have known," said Mrs. Carleton in a tone of deep reproach, when she had heard her niece's explanation, "your own common sense should have told you that to go wandering off by yourself in a strange city at seven o'clock in the morning, was a most extraordinary thing to do. You must never again go out alone at any hour. Elsie has never been out without a maid."
Marjorie's eyes opened wide in amazement.
"Not go out alone?" she repeated stupidly. "Why I've always gone everywhere by myself ever since I was a little girl."
"Well, you are not to do it here, whatever you may have done in Arizona," said Mrs. Carleton, crossly. "As for speaking to a strange young man, and getting him to bring you home, I really never heard of anything so outrageous. We have been frightened to death about you."
"There, there, Julia," put in Uncle Henry, "don't you think you have said enough? I am sure Marjorie will never do such a thing again; she will soon be accustomed to New York ways. Now suppose you let the child have some breakfast; she looks about ready to drop."
But it was not want of food that had driven the color from Marjorie's cheeks and the light from her eyes. Indeed, she had but small appetite for the tempting breakfast that was set before her, and it was only by a mighty effort that she was able to keep back the burst of homesick tears which threatened every moment to overpower her.
At the same moment that Mrs. Carleton was administering her reproof to Marjorie, Beverly Randolph was giving his mother an account of the morning's adventure, as they sat together at breakfast in their pleasant sitting-room on the floor below.