Marjorie watched her in fascination. She was well content with the change in Katherine. Once she had been a sad, subdued, retiring mouse of a girl. She had now blossomed into a lively, high-spirited young woman. The youngest member of the faculty she was respected by her colleagues for her brilliant mentality. She had also won high honors in the Silver Pen, a literary sorority, as an author of unusual promise.
Kathie’s arrival was the signal for a second round of nectar.
“I’ll have to be it, much as I hate to,” Vera presently mourned her tone particularly despairing.
“What is it you must be? Nothing your Celtic friend can save you from,” was Leila’s solicitous but rash promise.
“A time clock,” sighed Vera. “I’m the only one of this fivesome who has any idea of the value of time. If we don’t start for the Arms soon it may be Miss Susanna’s bedtime before we arrive there.”
“You must go with us, Kathie,” declared Marjorie. “The more Travelers, the merrier. We’re five of the old crowd, and I think it’s great to have even that number together again.”
“Of course I’ll go. You don’t think I’d let you run off to the Arms without me, do you?” Kathie’s eyes sparkled with the gaiety of the occasion.
“We’d never do that; never-r-r!” Vera assured with a dramatic roll of “r.”
“You must have known what Robin and I did not know until this afternoon,” Marjorie said happily. “When were you at the Arms last, Kathie?”
“Last Tuesday afternoon to tea. Yes, I knew.” Kathie flashed Marjorie a radiant look. “I was so glad. It was splendid in her.”
Before Marjorie could reply Vera called out a second warning. “Shoo, shoo, shoo!” she cried, whisking in and out among her chums and relentlessly driving them toward the dining room door. Laughing, Miss Remson strolled after the fleeing, giggling girls.
The little manager was about to call a last word to the party as they began to descend the steps when the purr of an approaching automobile brought all eyes to bear upon it. One of the railway station taxicabs was now coming to a stop before the Hall. The instant it stopped the driver sprang from it to open the tonneau door. Next a girl in a silver gray dust coat and close-lined gray hat which suggested Paris emerged from the machine. She cast a slow unhurried glance toward the group on the veranda, then turned toward the driver in leisurely fashion and addressed him.