"Sylvia came up on the night train, had a few words privately with Marian, took luncheon with the Willings, all as nice as you please, and off she went with Marian." Harwood pressed his thumb into his pipe-bowl and puffed in silence for a moment.

Allen, satisfied that he had at last caught his friend's attention, fanned himself furiously with his hat.
"Well," said Dan finally, "there's nothing so staggering in that.
Sylvia's been staying at the lake: I suppose Mrs.Bassett must have asked her to go up and bring Marian home when the papers screamed her daughter's name in red ink.

I understand that Mrs.Bassett's ill, and I suppose Bassett didn't like to leave her.

There's nothing fuddlesome in that.

Sylvia probably did the job well.