Mrs. Cragg was the reverse of white at this instant. Cragg uttered a hasty "Sh-sh-sh!" glancing at his wife as he did so. Something in her face made him repeat the look, even while he said again, "Hush! Hush! Little girls must never talk so. Hold your little tongue, Dot; that won't do at all."
Then his eyes fell upon Pattie. She had moved slightly, under the stress of feeling, and he could see her better than before.
"Why, Pattie, you've been crying!" he exclaimed.
[CHAPTER XIII]
What Had
Gone Wrong
CRAGG welcomed a change of subject. He could not, unhappily, feel sure that no cause existed for Dot's remarks, nor could he throw himself unreservedly into the defence of his wife. By this time he knew, only too well, that Mrs. Cragg was by no means always true in her utterances, that very often she was guilty of what Dot called "a tory." He was therefore the more anxious to divert attention at this moment.
"Why, Pattie, you've been crying!"
"One must—sometimes—cry a little," admitted Pattie, not trying to deny so patent a fact.
"Being a girl, perhaps one must. And it is nothing that I can set right? You are sure?"