“Ouch! I bet that stings Maria when she knows how you feel about her,” chuckled Heavy. “Why let carking care disturb your serenity, Mary? Come on and enjoy yourself like the rest of us.”
“I don’t expect to enjoy myself in any party that’s just run by one girl,” snapped Mary.
“Who’s that?” asked the stout girl, in wonder.
“Ruth Fielding. She bosses everything. She thinks this is all her own copyrighted show—like the Sweetbriars. Everything we do she suggests——”
“That shows how good a ‘suggester’ she is,” interposed Heavy, calmly.
“It shows how she’s got you all hypnotized into believing she’s a wonder,” snarled The Fox.
“Aw, don’t Mary! Don’t be so mean. I should think Ruth would be the last person you’d ever have a grouch on. She’s done enough for you——”
“She hasn’t, either!” cried Mary Fox, her face flaming.
“I’d like to know what you’d call it?” Heavy demanded, with a good deal of warmth for her. “If she wasn’t the sweetest-tempered, most forgiving girl that ever went to Briarwood, you’d have lost your last friend long ago! I declare, I’m ashamed of you!”
“She’s not my friend,” said Mary, sullenly.