"Then go and ask, darling. Find Mrs. Freeman, and ask her; it's so easily done."
Janet, accompanied by Olive and Ruth, was pacing slowly backward and forward under some shady trees. Her satellites were devoted to her, and Janet's slender figure was very erect, and her manner somewhat dictatorial. Dorothy Collingwood was not to be seen, she had evidently gone to join Evelyn upstairs. The girls of the middle school were preparing to exert themselves over more than one tennis match. The smaller children were going down to the shore.
"Change my dress! Now I really don't understand you. Am I to come down in my dressing-gown?"Dorothy could not restrain her laughter."Dear Janey, you always were the soul of sense," remarked Dorothy, in a somewhat languid voice. "For my part I pity those poor little mites, Violet and the rest of them. I know they are just as curious with regard to the issue of events as we are, and yet I can see them at this moment, with my mental vision, being driven like sheep into the fold. They'll be in bed, poor mites, when we are satisfying our curiosity."
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"I have some more things to say. I must get you, Bridget, before you leave this room, to make a promise."It was in some such fashion that the world spoke to Bridget O'Hara on this special summer's morning.There was a sound, a commotion. Several steps were heard; eager voices were raised in expostulation and distress.
"Do let me speak, Marion," exclaimed little Violet Temple, coloring all over her round face in her excitement and interest. "You know I got the first glimpse of her. I did, you know I did. I was hiding under the laurel arch, and I saw her quite close. It's awfully unfair of anyone else to tell, isn't it, Dolly?"Olive left the room with slow, unwilling footsteps, and Janet bent her head over the copy of Molière she was studying.
The girls took their places at the table—grace was said, and the meal began.
"My conduct? What have I done?"