Marjorie laughed and then she frowned. Now, why couldn’t that person-whoever-it-was have signed a name! Why not!
“How long before the person in Mark’s room will be well?” she asked.
“Oh, soon,” replied Mother. “I hope very soon.”
“What time? Will I know who it is by tea-time?”
“Maybe.”
“Oh, deary me!” Marjorie sighed. “Well, I’ve tried every way I can to find out,” she said. “Perhaps I’d better forget about it. I’m going to do my home-work for school so I can forget about it.” And she sat down at the library table with pencil, paper and books. But still, nothing happened!
Then it grew twilight and the light was lit in the dining-room. Marjorie rose and set the supper-table as usual. “How many places shall I set, Mother?” she inquired. “I don’t really mean to be curious any more—but you see, I must know. Mark will be home tonight and there will be Daddy—he’ll be here—and there’s you and there’s me and, I suppose The Mystery will be down, will it?”
“The Mystery will be down,” answered Mother, “but we’ll only need four places.”
But right here into the room came Mark. “Hello,” he greeted Marjorie. “Say, that’s one on you for curiosity, Marj! But the May basket was a peach! I’d have called to you only Mother said I mustn’t else you’d be in and talk to me and I felt pretty sick, I tell you! I got sick at Jimmie’s house and they telephoned home here the night I went away after you were asleep. Mother thought I’d better come right home, if I was going to be sick, so they sent me home late at night in their car—it’s a joke on you, Marjorie. How about a Mysterious Stranger?”
Mother laughed. And so, too, did Marjorie.