"No, she had not been. It was not influenza." Bee spoke in a mechanical voice, and her smile was rather forced.
"I suppose—some one must have told her," ventured Merryl.
"People always say that sort of thing, don't they?" Bee remarked. Then, a little hurriedly, she said good-bye, and went on.
"Frip, you shouldn't have told!"
"But I do wonder what made Magda say it. I should have thought she'd have wanted Bee to come. And I'm almost sure Bee is sorry. I'm almost sure she'd have liked to come."
Merryl was quite sure, but would not say so; and the matter dropped. It did not, however, end there. At luncheon some remark was made about Mrs. Major; and Frip, pricking up her ears, put in a word which Merryl, at the other end, had no power to check.
"Mummie, we saw Bee to-day."
"You shouldn't call her 'Bee,' Frip. You should say 'Miss Major,'" admonished Pen.
"But she told me I might call her 'Bee;' so I may, mayn't I? And Mrs. Major is almost quite well again; and it wasn't influenza, not one bit; and Bee could have come yesterday, if you'd asked her, mummie. And I told her you wanted to, only Magda said it was no good. And she looked—I don't exactly know how—only as if she was sorry."
"You do meddle, Frip!" burst out Magda.