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“I’m awfully glad to meet you,” said Marjorie graciously. “But Miss Brazier is wrong about my not remembering the names; I want to know them, and I don’t mean to forget them.”

“All right, then—just as you wish, Miss Wilkinson. You know that I’m Queenie Brazier, and—this here girl is Aggie Smithers, this beet-top is Clara Abrams, the tall skinny one at the window is Annie Marshall, this is Stella Cox on the table, with our little mascot beside her—Dottie Williams. And, oh yes, I forgot Fattie Reed—her real name’s Gertie. Now you got ’em all.”

“Yes, I believe I have,” replied Marjorie, trying to hide a smile at the method of introduction. “And I don’t intend to forget them, either.”

“I suppose you will want to get started at once,” put in Miss Winthrop. “Miss Wilkinson is a very busy lady, so I know she can’t stay long.”

“We ain’t goin’ to treat her rough this time,” muttered Aggie Smithers, but the remark was lost to Miss Winthrop. Nevertheless Marjorie heard it, and took it as a good sign.