"I know, of course,--you'd think that,--and it isn't that I'm finding
fault with Julia and Edgar. I couldn't do that--they're so good to me.
But, you see, I put them out so. Now, there's my room, for one thing. 'T
was Ella's, and Ella has to keep running in for things she's left, and
she says it's the same with the others. You see, I've got Ella's room,
and Ella's got Tom's, and Tom's got Bert's. It's a regular 'house that
Jack built'--and I'm the'Jack'!"
"I see," laughed Mary constrainedly. "And you want to come here? Well,
you shall. You--you may come a week from Saturday," she added, after a
pause. "I have a reception and a dinner here the first of the week, and
--you'd better stay away until after that."
"Oh, thank you," sighed Jane. "You are so good. I shall tell Julia that
I'm invited here, so she won't think I'm dissatisfied. They're so good
to me--I wouldn't want to hurt their feelings!"
"Of course not," murmured Mary.
* * * * *
The big, fat tire of the touring-car popped like a pistol shot directly
in front of the large white house with the green blinds.
"This is the time we're in luck, Belle," laughed the good-natured young
fellow who had been driving the car. "Do you see that big piazza just
aching for you to come and sit on it?"
"Are we really stalled, Will?" asked the girl.
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