She took
trouble with Barbara.
Sitting neatly upon a seat, Mary watched rude little boys throw sidelong
glances in her direction. Her long black legs were quivering with the
perception of their interest, even though her eyes were haughtily
indifferent. It was then that Barbara, with Miss Letts, an absent-minded
companion, came and sat by her side. Barbara and Mary had met at a
party--not quite on equal terms, because nine to seven is as sixty to
thirty--but they had played hide-and-seek together, and had, by chance,
hidden in the same cupboard.
The little boys had moved away, and Mary Adams's legs dropped, suddenly,
their tension.
"I'm going to a party to-night," Mary said, with a studied indifference.
Miss Letts knew of Mary's parents, and that, socially, they were "all
right"--a little more "all right," were we to be honest, than Mr. and
Mrs. Flint. She said, therefore:
"Are you, dear? That will be nice for you."
Instantly Barbara was trembling with excitement. She knew that the
remark had been made to her and not at all to Miss Letts. Barbara
entered once again, and instantly, upon the field of the passions.
Pages:
171
172
173
174
175
176
177
178
179
180
181
182
183
184
185
186
187
188
189
190
191
192
193
194
195