“Where have I been, you better ask.”

“Well, where have you been?”

“Downstairs!” she announced with a triumphant nod of her head.

“Downstairs!”

“It’s a wonder you didn’t see me. I saw you. The doctor was here this morning, and said it would do me good to get up and around as soon as possible now. At first I thought I better not till tomorrow morning. Then I said to myself it would be fun to surprise you. So I dressed about four o’clock, and sat around on the veranda for a while. I felt just fine, and when I saw all your party coming down the lake in the canoes, I walked down to the pier to meet you. I saw you when you went off with that young man, heaven knew where. I supposed you would be right back. I waited for over an hour in that little summer-house at the end of the pier. I thought it would be so nice to meet him like that, offhand, and I was looking rather well.”

Laurel occupied before the mirror—pulling off the lavender sweater over her head, removing the soft felt tam-o’-shanter that matched it, giving her hair gentle little presses and pokes—inquired casually, “Did you stay downstairs to dinner?”

“No, I didn’t. Though I felt all right. But I thought this way—it would be nicer to meet all your friends when you were around to introduce me. I’ll go down to breakfast with you tomorrow morning. I just feel great.”

“Then you didn’t meet anybody?”

“Not yet.”

“Mother,” said Laurel, turning toward her from the mirror, “I’m going downstairs just a moment if you’re all right. I won’t be long.”

“Mercy! Don’t think about me. Stay as long as you want, and have a good time. Gracious, you deserve it. I’m as contented as a clam, so long as you are happy, Lollie. But you can’t go like that, in that wrinkled waist and your hair all mussy.”

“Oh, it doesn’t matter.”

Laurel did not take the elevator downstairs. She walked. The elevator would leave her the whole length of the foyer away from the hotel office. The stairs came down just behind it. Laurel felt fairly sure that none of the crowd would be near the office at this time in the evening. She was right. Nobody was near the office. The clerk was alone.

“We’re leaving tomorrow,” she told him.

“Leaving! I thought your mother—”

“My mother is much better, and something has happened that makes it necessary for us to go home immediately.”

“Why, but—”

“Oh, I know we’ve engaged the room for the season. You’ll have to charge us for it, if that is the way you do. We’ve got to go, anyway.” There was something very convincing about Laurel. “We’re going on the early train,” she said.