Marjorie smiled faintly through her tears.
“You are a great comfort, Frieda. I don’t know what I’d ever do without you. I suppose there are worse things than missing the meet and a few days at Silvertown; but oh, I was so eager to go!”
“Of course you were! Well, let’s don’t worry yet--why there are four whole days left, and it only takes two to get there. My, wasn’t that wonderful chocolate cake, though? I could almost love old lady Higgins for that!”
“I hate her!” cried Marjorie, vehemently. “She’s just as much to blame as the old man!”
“Maybe not; maybe he rules her completely. Some men do, you know!”
“Well, I’m never going to get married, then!” announced Marjorie. “In fact, I hate all men!”
“Come, this won’t get us anywhere,” interrupted Frieda; “let’s play flinch, and try to forget it.”
The girls played until nearly nine o’clock, and then decided to go to bed. Worn out from the mental strain, they felt grateful for the comfortable bed, and soon fell asleep, clasping each other’s hands. There is nothing so effective in cementing a friendship as a common misfortune.
They slept late the next morning, and were awakened by a knock at their door. It proved to be Mrs. Higgins, with a tray.
“Good morning, girls,” she said cheerily; “how are you today?”
Both girls suppressed their natural inclination to say something pleasant, and Frieda, with a suggestion of her old rudeness, asked,
“Not yet, Miss. Mebbe the telephone’s broke. Is your pap likely to be home, Miss Wilkins?”
“No, he and mother went on a week-end motor trip. Of course he won’t be able to get them!”
She set the tray on a table by the window. The breakfast--fresh peaches with cream, hot biscuits, eggs, and fragrant coffee--certainly looked inviting. Marjorie eyed it critically.
“As a matter of fact, I forgot,” she replied, icily.
“Well, more’s the pity for you! If I know Mr. Higgins, he’ll stay right on the job till he gets an answer. If that’s the case, you needn’t hope to get away till your parents come back.”
“You’re wicked, cruel people!” she cried; “and when my father hears about it, he’ll have you put in prison! So there!”
“But he can’t!” objected Mrs. Higgins. “We’re only tryin’ to help the police catch a runaway gal. That’s obeyin’ the law, ain’t it--not breakin’ it!”