Every mile took her farther away from her dear ones, for they _were_ dear, whether related to her or not.
She pressed her flushed cheeks against the cool window pane.

She was too exhausted to cry any more.

She seemed to have only enough strength to say, brokenly, "Oh, Mother, _Mother_!" and then from sheer weariness of flesh she fell into a troubled sleep.
Meantime Marjorie was missed at home.

The Sand Club grew tired of waiting for her, and King went up to the house to investigate the delay.
He trudged, whistling, up the driveway, and seeing Mrs.Corey, he whipped off his cap, and greeted her politely.
"Where's Midget, Mother ?" he asked.
"I don't know, son; isn't she with you ?" "No'm, and I'm tired waiting for her." "Is Hester there ?" asked Mrs.Corey.
"Yes, Mrs.Corey, Hester's been with us an hour, and we're waiting for Mopsy.

She said she'd come as soon as she finished her practising." "She stopped practising some time ago," said Mrs.Corey.