preparing dinner.
“I’ll have time to run out to Lilac Inn if I hurry,” she decided.
Pausing only long enough to tell Mrs. Carter that she might be a few minutes late for dinner, she backed her roadster from the garage and started off down the lake road. Arriving at the inn, she swept up the driveway and came to a halt in front of the door. There were only a few automobiles parked near by, and Nancy guessed that the scandal of the loss of the jewelry had already affected the trade. Entering the inn, she sought the manager and was conducted to a private office.
“I’m sorry to trouble you again,” Nancy apologized. “But I find I must ask you a few more questions.”
“I’ll answer them gladly,” the manager returned graciously.
“Have you a girl in your employ by the name of Mary Mason?”
“Mary Mason? No, there is no one here by that name.”
“Perhaps she applied for work.”
“Not that I can recall. Can you describe her appearance?”
Nancy gave a detailed description of Mary, but when she had finished the manager of the inn shook her head.
“I am certain that she never came here. In fact, if she had, I would have hired her at once, for I am short a girl in the kitchen.”
“That’s queer,” Nancy murmured, half to herself. “Helen told me the girl said she would come here.”
“She must have changed her mind. Perhaps she found work at another tea room.”