“Don’t try to slide out of your good deeds, Leila Greatheart. You’re the same slippery person, when it comes to that, you always were.” Marjorie made one of her funny little-girl rushes at Leila, arms widespread. She caught Leila about the neck and gave her a bear hug.
“Now I thought I had changed for the better.” Leila cocked her head to one side, looking down at Marjorie with her own particular quizzical air. “But you, Beauty, I see little sign in you of the sedate dignity of a Mrs. with a newly-acquired husband, and a manor house.”
“Bean is Bean,” Jerry cut in, “so much the same old Beanie that I was inspired to chant a jingle to her this afternoon.”
“Where then is the jingle?” Leila held out a demanding hand for a copy of it.
“Now you know perfectly well I never set down my works of genius. Apply to Marjorie for it. She got it before we both for-got it.”
“I saved it for you, Leila,” Marjorie assured.
“Uh-h-h.” Leila received the assurance with a gratified gurgle.
“Oh, girls, it’s so satisfying to see you both again, and the four of us have such a lot to talk about,” Marjorie said with a happy little intake of breath, “but,” she paused, her eyes unconsciously roving in the direction of Leslie’s room. “It’s a case of ‘Remember the stranger within thy gates.’” She went on brightly. “We’ve plenty of time before dinner for one of our famous confabs, but it’s apt to be more or less noisy. If Leslie should hear us laughing and talking, it might make her feel—well, rather out of things here. She’s grown as sensitive as she used to be hard since she found herself. We must make it our special pleasure to show her we like to have her with us.”
“The confab is hereby postponed, but it will keep.” Leila nodded understandingly.
“We were going to shoo you two out of here, anyway,” Vera mercilessly announced. “If you were to continue to hang around in here until we unpacked our bags you might see”—she put on a mysterious air,—“well, something that you’re not to see, until later.”
Before Marjorie could reply in kind the loud honk, honk of a motor horn came up to the four friends from the drive.
“Oh, that’s Hal. He’s home earlier than I had expected. I won’t wait to be shooed out of here.” The color had deepened charmingly in Marjorie’s pink cheeks. A warm tender light had leaped into her brown eyes. “Pardon me, children. I’ll see you again in a little while.” She was at the door as she spoke.